White Shoes
by eloquentfever
Summary: Kurt and Sebastian are engaged. Kurt is a fashion designer that's trying to impress a bloke named Robert Paisley, whom is considering putting Kurt's design as his front cover in his magazine. Robert doesn't like Sebastian at all, and will do anything in his power to destroy him. The easiest thing for him to pick on is Sebastian's recent weight gain, right? TW: eating disorder.
1. Chapter 1

_don't be shocked. it's a Kurtbastian fanfic, and yes, it's one where Sebastian has an ED. more specifically, he becomes an anorectic. I have this mostly done and in my folder, so I decided that why not post it? Of course, the typical warning: **explicit mentions of eating disorders, sexual implications and cancer. as usual, character death is very possible with me.** _

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1

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Sebastian Smythe thought something was amiss when he found Kurt Hummel talking to a boy called Robert Paisley. What a name – fucking Paisley, like the tie that Kurt was wearing.

Sebastian didn't really think much of it. He was busy eating appetisers – olives and delicious fucking brie – when he noticed that Robert and Kurt were getting too close. That was when Robert _touched_ Kurt. It was the kind of touch that wasn't fucking okay.

Too close to Kurt's ass – which Paisley should've known belonged to none other than Sebastian Smythe.

Sebastian was noshing his way through olives when Paisley had walked, Kurt beside him. Paisley was just about Sebastian's height and oh – the shocking bit, Kurt and Robert had matching ties. They were having tie sex behind his back. Something was a fucking miss. He just knew it.

Kurt was smiling as if he'd just received twenty thousand dollars in cash all of a sudden. He had a glass of wine in his hand. Of course, Sebastian knew that was for show. Sebastian himself wasn't a fan of wine – not white. He was a fine of red wine. He wasn't a fan of sweet wine either. He liked it dry, like his aunt's humour.

"You must be Kurt's friend!" Paisley called out as if he'd known the brunette for years. "How are you?"

"Who the fuck are you?" was Sebastian's eloquent response. He knew the tag on his name said it, but honestly, if he was named Robert Paisley, he'd be choking on his own spit whenever he had to tell someone his name.

Kurt was glaring at the tall brunette. "Sebastian!" he snapped coldly, nearly breaking the glass of wine in his hand. "What have I told you about swearing when we're at important dinners? I'm sorry, Mr Paisley. My fiancé is just infuriating sometimes. You must understand. He's still stuck in the hormonal phase. He's going through puberty as we speak. If you would just excuse me for a second…"

Kurt practically forcefully grabbed Sebastian from his position, shooting a cold look towards Sebastian. Kurt had dragged the tall brunette over to a scolded corner before he spat out his frustrations. "What is wrong with you? That is Robert Paisley, Sebastian – editor of _Blush_ magazine. You have to be respectful to him. I will cut you if the reason I don't get my well-deserved promotion is because of you. He's _considering_ putting my designers on the front cover of his issue and also doing an article with me. This is a big thing for me."

Sebastian snorted. "_Blush_ magazine?" he repeated as if it was a joke.

Kurt gave him an icy stare. "Sebastian," he spat out the brunette's name as if it was poison.

"Is everything alright?" Robert Paisley walked towards them, offering an enchanting smile. Kurt gave him another one back before disappearing towards the man.

Paisley put his hand just under the groove of Kurt's back, near his ass. The ass that Sebastian had claimed three fucking years ago. That was his twenty-two year old girlfriend that Paisley was thinking of banging up the wall. He was about ninety percent sure that Kurt was fucking Paisley. Did anyone see Kurt's designs? They were fucking horrible.

Sebastian was just about to walk towards them again before Mrs Rachel Berry had grabbed Sebastian's arm and practically tore him away from the scene. "What are you doing?" the starlet hissed. "This is Kurt's big shot."

"I'm giving Paisley a piece of my mind," Sebastian muttered darkly.

"Are you crazy?" Rachel had exclaimed in a loud whisper. "You can't do this. You'll ruin things for Kurt. He's been working for months just to land a shot at talking to him. Smythe, if you care about Kurt at all, you wouldn't dare do this to him. This is all he's ever wanted. He's been reading that magazine ever since we were teenagers in high school."

"No wonder he never got banged," Sebastian snorted before moving back towards the table with the olives and cheese.

He snorted. No more olives and no more cheese. He decided to go with the finger sandwiches.

Berry was still following him, and she was standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her fluffy pink dress. "Really?" she called out. "Is this what you do? Just eat yourself to death when you go to these dinners with Kurt? You do know that there's a dinner right after, right?"

Sebastian snorted. "I'm just fuelling my appetite."

"You're a sad person, Smythe," Rachel had finally decided, shaking her head at the display that he was showing.

Here Sebastian Smythe was – or his remains really – inhaling bit after bit of food at the buffet table. He had no job, and he had declined his Father's offer in taking in the man's company.

Jean Smythe was battling cancer, something that Kurt was aware of. He wanted someone to take over the company, fill in his shoes but Sebastian couldn't do it. The man still left the offer on standby but Sebastian couldn't imagine being the CEO of any company, much less something like his Father's company. His Father worked in the organic type industry – he had two lines, one for food and one for cosmetics. His Mother used to run the cosmetic line before she died, and now, he was forced to run that too.

They were one of those companies with the cutesy names (Bunny Bites) with a picture of the most adorable bunny cartoon ever. Sebastian had to take credit for that. He drew it when he was six. It was the first thing he ever drew and he was so self-conscious about it. He remembered that much (or really that _little_) of his childhood at least.

Just as he was munching away his troubles, he realised that Kurt and Paisley had disappeared from view completely.

"Where did Paisley go?" Sebastian asked with a rather irritated tone to his voice. He hated that he can't find Paisley or Kurt and he hardly doubted that they were okay.

He then found Kurt's silhouette outside. That shitty hairdo was unmistakable.

He had practically ran outside with Berry running straight after him. She tripped over those huge silver heels she wore to make herself not a midget and he found himself going outside. He saw that Paisley was offering Kurt flowers and they were laughing by the fucking moonlight.

The only logical thing that Sebastian could do was tackle Paisley straight into the fucking fountain and thus, ruining his wardrobe entirely.

Kurt looked like he'd been hit with a slice of cake. His face was first filled with shock, and then fury soon overtook his facial expression.

Kurt had pulled Sebastian off of Paisley. "Oh my God, Mr Paisley, I am so sorry. I apologise so much for my fiancé's behaviour. He's just—"

"It's not a problem, Kurt," Paisley offered him a sickly sweet smile. "It wasn't a good suit anyway." He pulled out his thick-rimmed glasses just to wipe them out. "The things that our loved ones do, right?"

"Yes!" Kurt nervously exclaimed. "I…I really would have that cleaned for you."

"Oh, it's no problem." Paisley shook his head, offering Kurt a bright smile. "I'll discuss it with your fiancé though. If you don't mind."

"Oh, it's no problem, Mr Paisley."

Kurt had practically run off straight after that, looking like a teenage boy that was humiliated in front of his crush. Sebastian looked at Paisley, whose express changed from rather loving and caring to a cold hearted dragon. The man looked cross, and most importantly, he looked like he wanted to ruin Sebastian.

"Listen here, Smith—" Paisley's tone had changed drastically.

"It's _Smythe_," Sebastian corrected.

"Whatever," Paisley obviously didn't give a fuck about Sebastian and wasn't actually as kind hearted and as saint fairy-like as he appeared to be. "I'm willing to turn a blind eye to this—only because Kurt's such an exceptional designer. Besides, you obviously want to mess up your relationship with him. He's such an exceptional boy – Sebastian."

"You just want to get in his fucking pants," Sebastian spat out.

Paisley glared at him. "Now, Sebastian, be nice," he said, patting the brunette's hair as if he was a disobedient pup. "I'd have to let you know that I have a good chance of getting into your fiancé's pants. With the way you react towards him and I, he could so easily leave you."

"You're a disgusting man, Mr Parsley," Sebastian spat out.

"Paisley."

"Whatever," Sebastian repeated with a smirk to his lips before he added on, "Kurt will see through your shit."

"Are you sure about that?" Paisley asked, smirking in return. "Are you sure that things haven't gone below the belt with Kurt and I? You know you would've fucked a position of higher power just to be noticed, wouldn't you? Come on, Sebastian, let's be fair – you're Ohio's slut. You're just bound to break some time soon. If Kurt doesn't give you your daily blow-job, you'll just kneel over and die."

Kurt had returned only moments after. "I'm sorry, Mr Paisley, but I just got a call from my Father. He's back from the airport and I have to drag the fiancé over there too, so if you'd just let Sebastian and I leave…" he shook his head. "I'm so sorry about your suit. I'm sorry that Sebastian just about ruined it."

"It's okay," Paisley's tone had turned to so sweet it was practically sugar. "I was thinking that Sebastian could be wearing one of your designs actually. Thinking of putting him on the cover. His Mother was a model, wasn't she? Natalie Smythe?"

Sebastian glared over at Paisley. "Her name is _Nathalie_, you pretentious asshole—"

Kurt cut off Sebastian quickly. "Yes, yes," he smiled warmly at Sebastian. He grabbed Sebastian's arm, pinching the skin under his wrist to tell the tall brunette to stop. He offered a sickly sweet smile towards Paisley. "I like the thought of it actually. Just tell me what the issue theme is and I'll concoct something up. Thank you so much for giving me a chance, Mr Paisley."

"It's not a problem," Paisley responded with a bright grin. "Does Sebastian have a problem with wearing androgynous clothing?"

"Fuck yeah!" Sebastian snapped.

"Of course not!" Kurt yelled at the same instant.

"Which one is it then?" Paisley asked.

Kurt was quick to answer that question. "He's just fine with it. Aren't you?" he gave a rather icy look towards Sebastian, and the tall brunette slowly but surely nodded his head.

Yeah. His Father was dying on a hospital bed and the first thing that he was going to tell him when he was going to visit him after his chemo was that he was going to pose in feminine clothing in an issue of a magazine called _Blush_. That was definitely _okay_.

"Splendid!" Paisley exclaimed, giving them both a hug. Paisley was inching forward to Sebastian's ear before saying, "You may want to consider liposuction. You're too bloody fat to be a model."

Sebastian froze in that instant, tensing up but then relaxed when Paisley pulled away. Paisley had disappeared very quickly.

"I'll leave you to go to pick up your Father, Kurt!" Paisley exclaimed.

"You never told me that your Dad was—"Sebastian was cut off by Kurt.

"That's because it was a lie," Kurt's voice was dripping with fury. "You embarrassed me so much tonight. Next time, I'm not bringing you to one of these dinner parties. Never again. I'd rather you stay at home getting drunk a thousand times."

That was an actual hit to Sebastian. He felt like a little child that had accidentally humiliated his Mother in a group of her friends. He looked down at his loafers, with his cheeks reddening at the thought.

"Furthermore," Kurt added on, as if he couldn't see that Sebastian didn't want to hear it. "You are doing that shoot whether you bloody like it or not. You are my fiancé. You are supposed to think of my best interest – not yours, and I have wanted to be in that magazine for years, Sebastian. Years. My designs. This is an actual honour this man is bestowing upon you. Do it. Do whatever he says."

_Consider liposuction_, Sebastian snorted to himself. He poked at his stomach. It was actually going outward now. He had an actual belly. That was gross. It wasn't a big pudge but his nights of nibbling on cheese, olives, finger sandwiches, eating dinner and then a huge scoop of gelato wasn't going to help him lose weight. What did he need to lose anyway? Five pounds? Ten pounds? Ha. He could lose whatever he gained. He will regain confidence, and he will show that Paisley bloke what Sebastian Smythe was made out of it and it wasn't fat.

That morning, Sebastian woke up with a fire in his belly (and hunger). He had paddled towards his washroom, stripping down to stare at the mirror.

Okay. He definitely did have some pudge going on there. His arms and legs were still the same. Whatever he gained – he gained fully on his stomach. He got on his scale. 186. 180-fucking-6. The highest he could ever remember being was 170, so this new number was actually _disgusting_. Okay.

When he met Hummel, he was twenty pounds less than this. When he met Hummel, _he was twenty pounds less than this_.

He turned to face the mirror again and suddenly, cringed. He could actually see how he'd gained twenty pounds of fat in his tummy. His arms were still petite, his thighs have expanded with the gelato he'd been having late at night but his legs were just fine.

Fuck it. He needed to lose some serious weight.

The thought of going to the gym was making him feel rather disturbed. Huh. He could always do one of those stupid diets. He had gone off to draw a warm bath, got his laptop out (another habit Kurt bitched at him about) and browsed through diets.

He had gone to do his BMI. 23.9. Completely normal weight. Bullshit. He had the pudge of a fatass. The tummy he was sporting was that of a man that was a forty-five year old cop that ate doughnuts all fucking day long.

Ha. Wikipedia. Diets on Wikipedia…

The door swung open and Kurt was standing by the doorway, completely decked into a suit. He was wearing his new shiny loafers. Shit was real.

"Okay, I am going to go to Greece now," Kurt explained, voice a little rougher than usual. "I am still pissed at you f or last night, so I do not want you to be driving me. Blaine is going to be here in a few days and if you try to get into his pants, I will cut off your hands and—_what did I say about bringing the laptop to the bathroom_?"

Sebastian snorted. "Make sure you remember to wash the screen," he snorted. He paused for a moment. "Did you feed Scotty?"

"I am _not_ touching your mongrel," Kurt said, referring to Sebastian's Dutch shepherd which the shorter brunette was convinced Sebastian loved more than life itself. "Send your regards to your Father for when you see him. I heard that he's recovering quite well."

"Yeah," Sebastian nodded his head, his voice a bit lower than usual. He didn't like to think about his Father.

Kurt had left soon afterwards. Sebastian had found himself staring at the screen, reading it up. All of them sounded unappealing. Eating only apples for the rest of his life sounded like it would work. Maybe he should just avoid eating as much as possible—

His eyes had caught the name Shakeology. That sounded like something he'd do. He went on the website, read it off. He'd have to exercise. He grimaced. Oh well. Worth a shot. He made purchases recklessly, and leaned back to enjoy his bubble bath.

When he got out of the bath, he wore an oversized sweater, some of his sweatpants, and found Scotty to feed him. He spent the next few days playing with Scotty and making fun of Dr Phil for his spare time.

Whenever he texted his Father, asking him to come over, the man responded with 'not now' and 'I'll tell you when you can come over.' The brunette felt a bit insulted.

Halfway through watching Dr Phil, an add came up for a restaurant and Sebastian was mid-stroking Scotty when he realised that he knew that restaurant. Specifically, he knew that man that was standing there advertising it. It was a boy that he used to bully back in high school named Bradley. He had braces and horrid teeth. Now, he had the most perfectly muscled body in the planet and a dazzling smile. An infuriating Sebastian had shut off the TV, and decided to take Scotty for a walk.

When he came back, his Shakeology stuff was here. Okay. Time to start.

After reading the stuff, he felt a little discouraged but he guessed he had to. Kurt told him he had to at least. He had pressed a kiss towards Scotty's forehead, telling him he'd be back, and left the dog with one of the maids before he left to go downtown to buy whatever shit he needed.

He went downtown to buy a shitload of stuff. Weighed himself—he'd managed to gain a pound since last time he weighed himself. In his defence, he had to eat pizza before he even thought of going on a diet, so it just made sense to eat half of a huge one (he never wanted to see pizza ever again in his life at this point). He stowed away most of the alcohol, had given his keys to the maid and told her she could do whatever she wanted with his stash (if only Kurt knew that he was letting the maid get drunk).

He was sure that he could just cut out alcohol from his diet and lose weight. He drank a shit load of alcohol on a daily basis, but this was personal. This was Paisley telling him to lose weight, and he would. He would just to prove Paisley wrong – Sebastian had all the bloody self-control that he needed.

He tore off the page that told him how many calories he needed to eat in a day to maintain healthy weight loss. Who the fuck cared about healthy? No book was going to tell Sebastian how much he needed to eat. He was going to do fine on as little as fucking possible.

Okay. Now, he just had to figure out how to cook oatmeal…

A few hours later, he found himself covered in oats. The microwave had made his oatmeal explode. He was burning, and he fucking hated dieting already. He turned to the other sane breakfast option, made himself two eggs with a slice of toast. There was something about blueberries too, but Sebastian was not going to start eating blueberries.

Scotty was hungry, so Sebastian had given him some of the eggs. That must be good.

"What happened to the kitchen?" Sebastian looked up to see Blaine standing there, placing the spare key Kurt had given him on the counter and staring at the beige goop on the floor. "Is that porridge?"

"Yeah, before it butchered my microwave," Sebastian snorted, shaking his head.

Blaine had put two and two together rather quickly. "You're on a diet."

Scotty seemed to have identified said beige goop on the floor as food as proceeded to lick it off. Sebastian remembered Kurt complaining about how Sebastian shouldn't feed the dog so much. _He's growing as big as you are, _Sebastian scoffed to himself.

"Don't laugh." Sebastian snapped, but Blaine had collapsed on the floor laughing.

"The Sebastian Smythe is on a diet!" Blaine exclaimed, throwing his arms outward. He shook his head. "Really, Sebastian—you don't need to go on a diet. If anything, I finally see that you have a figure."

"I gained twenty fucking pounds," Sebastian spat out. "I blame Hummel for him trying to plump me up and the cake tasting he takes me too….also, the dinner parties he takes me too. The good is shitlessly good there."

Blaine shook his head. "I honestly cannot believe that you are on a diet."

"Fuck off." Sebastian spat out. He honestly didn't know how Blaine's magical haloness had disappeared, but it had, and now, Sebastian was just irritated.

Scotty was playing with Sebastian's slipper, and the brunette had just finished breakfast. He was bloody starving. He wanted his bacon, and he wasn't particularly fond of whole-wheat anything. His body better hurry up and lose those extra pounds, or else he'd have to actually result to liposuction.

Sebastian stirred in his black coffee before taking a sip. "Ever heard of a bloke called Robert Paisley?"

"Did you meet him?" Blaine's eyes widened, as if Sebastian had said 'Brad Pitt' instead of Mr Parsley. Sebastian nodded his head. The ravenette quickly sat down. "Editor of _Blush_ magazine—everyone reads it, Sebastian. Everyone."

"Great. I'm going to be posing in feminine clothing in it," Sebastian spat out, placing a hand on his neck. "It's going to be Kurt's design or something. It's going to be shitty."

"You cannot ruin this for Kurt," Blaine quickly said. "Kurt loves that magazine so much."

"If I heard that one more time, I'm going to upchuck," or maybe it was the eggs. Sebastian stirred in his coffee. He needed sugar and milk in this thing. Maybe he could have a cup of normal coffee if he skipped lunch…huh… he looked at Blaine whom was just nodding his head at the brunette.

"Well, yeah. The thing is a lot of people know how important this is to Kurt," Blaine smiled warmly. "I'm sure he talks about it all the time with you."

"You think I listen to everything he says?" Sebastian snorted. "He's a damned chatterbox. He talks even when I'm in the bloody shower."

"Point taken."

Sebastian looked down at his plate. He was starving. When was lunch?

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	2. Chapter 2

2

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He gave up on Shakeology within a day—okay, three hours. He dumped the stuff. He couldn't deal with this. He was just going to do it the old-fashioned way – senseless starving and exercising until his legs fell off or he puked. Whichever happened first.

The trainer person said Sebastian was in good shape. Good shape? Sebastian could barely stay on the treadmill. He was on it for about ten minutes before he gave up, and moved onto something else. He wasn't even trying. It was just sad. He liked cycling though. He stayed on that thing for a full on hour. He could do that all day long.

Just as Sebastian had decided to give up about seventy-five minutes in (it couldn't be healthy to do more than an hour and a half of exercise), Paisley walked in.

That was when Sebastian's stomach sloshed. Fuck's sake. Was he going to run into this asshole all the damn time?

"Sebastian," Paisley gave him one of those sickly sweet smiles that made Sebastian's stomach churn. "How are you? I see you're trying to lose those excess forty pounds you're carrying."

Forty? He looked like he was carrying forty excess pounds? Sebastian's heart practically raced. Nobody had ever made the indication that he had to fucking lose weight before Paisley showed up, and everyone seemed to think that Paisley was God.

This was what prompted Sebastian to speed up his pace a bit on his bike. He stared at the man with coldness in his eyes. "What are you doing here, Paisley? Wife told you that you needed to work on that ass of yours before she left you? Come on. A guy like you must have his own private gym."

"I saw you walk in and decided to join you," Paisley responded with that arrogant little look on his face that Sebastian wanted to wipe off. "After all, I need to make sure that whoever is going to be on the cover is in tip-top shape. Come on, Sebastian, let me in on a little secret—how much do you weigh? Two hundred and ten? Two twenty? It's alright."

"Fuck off," Sebastian scoffed. "I'm not you. I do not weigh that bloody much."

That was it. Lunch was off the menu, and just about anything he'd ever eat again in his stupid life. He hated this man so much he didn't even know how to feel about it. He was watching Paisley being a fucking daisy on the machine for about thirty minutes. When he got off, Sebastian decided to let in another ten minutes, before he left the gym.

He got up, practically drenched in sweat. He lost feeling in his legs. He picked up the towel from the bench, feeling the need to throw up from how long he spent on that stupid machine.

"So Smith," Paisley called out with a smirk, "I guess I'll be seeing you here tomorrow?"

"Fuck yes," Sebastian spat out venomously. No. He didn't want to come here tomorrow, or ever, but his pride was taking over. Just as he was about to leave the gym, he checked his phone and texted his Father for a visit. His Father said no for the fifth time that week.

There was something wrong with Sebastian if his own Father didn't want to see him.

He was just about leaving the gym before his phone had rung. He picked it up. He was still somewhat panting from the horrible exercise session he had just then. "Who? Who is this?"

"Check your caller ID, Sebastian," the male at the other end of the line had snorted.

He recognised that voice immediately. "Kurt?" he felt confounded.

"Okay, I have to tell you about the designs I'm picking for your clothing…"

After that, Sebastian had honestly zoned out. He was tired. He wasn't listening, and it wasn't important more so. He was just thinking about how his dying Father wasn't returning any of his calls.

"…and you are _not_ even listening to me."

"I'm sorry, babe," Sebastian said. "One of those days where I stayed up the night." His pride was too bad that he didn't want to express that he'd thought of his body as less than perfect for a minute there.

"You honestly worry me with your sleeping habits," Kurt had announced.

Sebastian wasn't particularly lying. Last week had been barely made of found. He'd lost five pounds in that week, because he was quite blatantly starving all the time. He'd been living off frozen grapes, and whatever dinner Blaine made him, which he didn't finish. He would then feign eating for the rest of the night by grabbing the tin of nuts that they had, playing with the almonds and pretending to eat them when in fact he was just feeding Scotty.

The lack of eating meant that he lacked sleep. He honestly didn't know how he was functioning. He didn't have any breakfast. He had the shittiest exercise session, and the only thing he had to look forward to at home was a bag of baby carrots that he stowed away in his room.

He didn't want carrots. He wanted pasta. He wanted pizza. He wanted _food_.

"How was your visit to your Father?" Kurt asked. Sebastian was just about to answer that his Father hadn't been answering his calls when Kurt had added on, "I talked to him on the phone yesterday. He seemed very fine, happy actually."

In that moment, Sebastian was fucking crushed. His Father would answer to his boyfriend, but not to him? What the fuck was that about?

"Yeah," Sebastian had begun. "Good old Dad."

That was it. He was going to drive down to the nearest store, buy himself a pint of Ben and Jerry's and cry himself to sleep. Fucking Hell. He wasn't in the mood for any of this.

"Look, Sebastian," Kurt had began, voice a little more concerned than usual. "Sweetie, I don't want to have to tell you this but…um…I was discussing things with Robert yesterday, and he was just about to back down from everything."

"Really?" Sebastian tried to hide the excitement in his voice.

"I asked him why and…" Kurt had paused for the longest of time. "He thinks that your weight may be an issue, so what I'm asking is—"

"You want me to go on a fucking diet," Sebastian spat out. He was angry now. He was so angry. He did not tell Kurt that he was already on a diet. He was already bloody starving and had spent what? Two hours and a half in the gym because Paisley was staring at him.

"This means a lot to me," was all Kurt had said.

"Fine," Sebastian spat out. "I'll lose some weight. How much do you want me to lose?"

"Um…" Kurt seemed tentative. "I think a good thirty pounds would do."

"_Thirty_? I know I put on quite a bit, Hummel but fucking _thirty_?" Thirty. Forty. Hell, Sebastian would lose fifty for Kurt. He didn't care. He was going to do it. Fucking starving central. Why not? He'd do it.

"Or twenty," Kurt hesitantly added on. "Actually, no, Sebastian—I'm sorry. Don't lose anything. I don't know what came over me. I just…I think that I—"

"Stop it, Hummel." Sebastian laughed, as if the thought of Kurt wanting him to lose thirty pounds wasn't hurting him. He didn't think he looked like he needed thirty pounds to lose but he must be fucking wrong if Kurt was telling him this as well. "I'll lose weight. Don't worry."

"Are you…are you sure?" Kurt sounded guilty.

Sebastian paused to stare at the road. It was pretty empty. "Yeah."

"Thank you, honey. This really means a lot to me." Sebastian had said his goodbyes to Kurt, shut off his phone, drove as quickly as he could towards his home (getting a speeding ticket in the process).

He ran upstairs to his room. He was overwhelmed by a shitless amount of sadness, and he didn't know what to do with himself. He had collapsed onto his bed, crying his eyes out. He cried more and more. He felt sick to his stomach.

The only good thing that came out of crying so much was that he managed to successfully skip eating. Scotty was trying to comfort him.

His Father didn't answer any of his calls and didn't want Sebastian to come over for some reason. Paisley told Sebastian to lose forty pounds. Kurt told him to lose thirty. Blaine was downstairs making what Sebastian could smell was really good food, and he was starving but he couldn't eat.

He couldn't eat for a while now.

A few hours later, Blaine had called him down for dinner, and Sebastian had grabbed Scotty to go downstairs. Fuck it. Blaine made such fattening cuisine and he never seemed to gain weight off it. Sebastian absolutely loathed it.

He sat down by the table, staring at Blaine's linguine that was drenched in some sort of sauce that was a mix of white and red. Great. Double the calories. Sebastian was picking at it for the most bit. He was just about ready to take a bite when his phone had told him he received a text message.

That was when his Father had said that he wanted to see him tomorrow night. All Sebastian could say was: _finally_. He was going to ask for an explanation. Cancer or not, that was a seriously dick move.

He ate the least of his plate as possible, and when Blaine showed signs of being done, Sebastian had grabbed the ravenette's plate, putting it on top of his own quick enough that Blaine didn't see what was on his plate.

"I'd have to tell Kurt I got you to do the chores," Blaine lightly teased.

Sebastian wanted to scoff. Hardly.

Sebastian had went off towards the cupboard, grabbing a box of Fibre One bars that he'd bought – those things at least sounded like they'd make him go before heading off upstairs to put them in his cupboard. Kurt had tried to get him to eat the Fiber One bar shit before but Sebastian had been so reluctant.

He'd just live off these until the box was empty, and then he'd go and buy another box. The one he had at this current moment was oats and caramel and it was 150 fucking calories. It better be good or filling or whatever. He was done with this weight, and he was done with this shit.

The next day, Sebastian had found himself going towards the scale and hopping on it. 182.4lbs.

Sucked arse. He _gained_ weight. He was still in the damned 180s, and still fat, and he still had a belly. It seemed to grow instead of shrink actually, and that was what pissed him off. He needed a measuring tape. If his waist was more than 34 inches, he was going to get a knife and cut off the fat personally.

Damned Blaine and his cooking. He definitely blamed it on that. Sebastian's portions must be massive. Well, of course, his portions were massive. He was fat for a reason.

He busied himself by cleaning out his closet and finding an old high school hoodie that was baggy. He found pants that were too damn tight that he used to wear. Might as well wear him to remind him of how much he fucking loathed himself.

He called Claire and told her to take care of Scotty. Then he was off to see his Father.

The ride wasn't perfect. The traffic was shitty. The roads were a mess, and he swore he nearly ran over a few things (and people but that wasn't important) on his way over there.

When he got to the hospital, he ordered coffee to calm down his jitters (he was aware that coffee wasn't going to help). This place made him feel sick. He should actually get a job here or volunteer here or something. Just the thought of the hospital made his appetite just die.

He had gone off towards his Father's hospital room where he found his Father lying there on the hospital bed. He lost so much fucking weight. He'd never seen his Father not muscled. He'd never seen him vulnerable, and this was when he was getting better.

That had to be a lie. Really. It had to be a lie.

This was wrong. This was so fucking wrong. Sebastian sat down on the chair just beside Jean, watching the man take in his youngest son's expression.

"Adrien," Jean called out to his eldest son. "Take Thomas and Christophe out of the room and if you see Francois on the hallway, tell him not to come in. I want a private conversation with Sebastian right now."

Sebastian didn't know what to think of that.

Adrien had left, and Thomas and Christophe followed him afterwards. Adrien, Thomas, Christophe and Francois were all the splitting image of their Father – 5'8, muscled, perfect, and successful in every single way.

Adrien owned an Italian restaurant and several chains of it. Thomas and Christophe had a business involved animals, and Francois worked in the air force. Sebastian was…nothing. Nothing at all. He was taller than him at six-foot two, fat because he gained weight, and he had all of his Mother's features.

"What is it?" Sebastian asked, voice lower than usual. He didn't know what to say.

Jean looked up at Sebastian. "I talked to Kurt and he was happy enough to mention you agreeing to wearing androgynous clothing to an issue on a very well-known magazine?" he spat out, voice higher than usual. "And why did I not hear this from you?"

"Do you answer any of my fucking calls?" Sebastian spat out, his voice was higher than normal. "I was trying to call you, trying to text you, do anything and you wouldn't let me. I have enough fucking decency in me to wait until I see you to tell you any of those things."

Jean didn't seem to answer to that. Sebastian deciphered that immediately: Sebastian was right and Jean was wrong. Sebastian wasn't about to treat his Father like he was fragile because he had cancer, and Jean was aware of it. In fact, Jean looked like he thrived from it.

"You're the only person in the universe that isn't treating me like I'm fragile," Jean snorted. "Poor cancer patient and all of that."

Sebastian just stared at his Father for the longest of time, not knowing how to respond to that.

Jean then added on. "If you pose then I will disown you." It was a very simple threat, but effective. God knew that Jean meant every syllable of that statement. "You will be nothing but dead to me, Sebastian. I will cut you off. I will—"

"I get it," Sebastian spat out. "Your reputation is more important to you than me."

"Yes," Jean didn't deny this at all. "My reputation is everything to me. You should understand that."

Sebastian nodded his head. "Fine," he said, voice a little louder than usual. "Is that all you wanted to see me for?"

Jean nodded his head before pointing towards the doorway. Leave. That was good enough. Sebastian had left the room quickly afterwards, not bothering to look back at his Father. Their relationship had been shit ever since Jean had figured out that Sebastian was gay. It was just that.

He had to lie to Kurt. One thing that he never told Kurt was that his relationship with his Father was so fucking horrible.

He had pulled out his phone, dumped whatever was there of his untouched latte (cavern of all calories – how stupid was he?) and moved to leave.

"Hold on there," Sebastian froze in his position at the familiar voice and turned to see Adrien standing there, arms crossed over his chest. "Did you fight with Dad? I know that walk. That's your 'Dad is being an ass and I don't want to see him again' walk."

Sebastian looked down at his feet.

"The man is dying," Adrien wanted to remind Sebastian, walking towards the taller male that was now slouching. "Did you forget that or are you actually that much of a pretentious ass that you don't care about the fact that he lives or dies?"

Sebastian pursed his lips tightly. "You were always his favourite."

"No," Adrien denied that statement. "_You_ were his favourite before you came out."

That felt unfair. Sebastian nodded his head. He remembered that time too – the time where the drawing he made of the bunny was such an inspiration to make the company.

"Sebastian, honestly, I do not care what your sexuality is, all I know is that the man is dying and you had a fight with him," Adrien stated, voice higher than usual. The five-foot-eight male rubbed his neck before pulling out a bar from his pocket and offering it to Sebastian. "Think about everything."

Adrien always gave him Bunny Bites' Rab-bit bars after a talk for some reason. Sebastian had taken the bar away from his Adrien before leaving. He didn't really look back. He was just storming out of there. Of course, be nice to the cancer patient.

He had gone off towards his car. He turned the bar over and looked at the nutritional facts. 180 calories per bar. Who bought this shit? Fattening. No wonder he was always so fat if he chomped those down every time Adrien had given it to him.

He called Kurt a few hours later. Kurt answered very quickly actually.

"Yes, Sebastian?" he asked.

Sebastian felt horrible. He wondered if Kurt was ever going to answer any of his calls after this. "Hey," his voice was rough. He couldn't afford to sound soft over the phone. Kurt could always tell when he was upset just by looking at him, but he can't look at him right then.

"Thanks for calling. I forgot to send you the designs that I made and—"

"I'm not going to do it," Sebastian spat it out as quickly as he could.

"What?" Kurt called out, voice high. He sounded absolutely horrified, as if Sebastian had just told him that he was part lesbian. "What do you mean you're not doing it?" he emphasised on that statement, voice higher than usual.

All Sebastian could do was muster up all the anger that was in him. Snap at Kurt. Make Kurt angry at him, and then it would all fix itself in the end. "I fucking hate that you think that I'm going to pose as an androgynous anything. I'm a man, not a lady. I don't want to fucking dress up like you and look like the town slut."

"Do you think I look like a slut? Actually, don't answer that. It must be correct if you think that I'd give you designs that were less than Sebastian approved," Kurt snapped at him. "Do you honestly not think of anyone but yourself, Sebastian?"

"You told me to lose thirty fucking pounds for it! How the hell do you think I feel? If I lost thirty pounds, I'd be a hundred and fucking fifty pounds. How the hell do you want me to feel about that?" Sebastian coldly called out. Now, his heart was hurting him. He felt sick and he could feel tears filling his eyes. He'd never been this sensitive about his anything in his life. "Mind you, yours is actually a step-up. Paisley wanted me to lose like forty stupid pounds. How fat do you both think I look exactly?"

Getting this out was supposed to make him feel good. Instead, it made him feel like absolute shit.

"Sebastian, I…I didn't know that he wanted you to lose forty."

"No, but you're okay with me losing thirty?" Sebastian spat out, not knowing what else to think. "You'd be okay with me walking around weighing in at one fifty pounds? Did you think that maybe – maybe this might actually make me feel like shit? No! Because I don't have any bloody emotions. Not to you. Not to anyone else. How the fuck would you feel if I call you up and ask you to lose thirty pounds for me?"

Kurt was silent by that point. Sebastian felt horrendously guilty (and felt like a horrendous ass too). Kurt wouldn't blame Paisley – he'd blame himself, and he wouldn't come back home either.

"Bye, Kurt. Don't call us. We'll call you." Sebastian responded, shutting off his phone soon afterwards.

He didn't have to be on a diet anymore. Thank fuck. He was going upstairs. He was going to sit down and order himself a huge pizza and gain weight off that. He was going to put back all he lost in a week, all the starving and suffering he had to go through, in a fucking day and he won't care anymore.

He got into his house after grabbing the bar from its place. He went inside. Blaine was cooking something that smelled nice. Meant it was fattening. He threw the bar on the counter, and Blaine's eyes lit up.

"Oh! It's Rab-bit," Blaine quickly left the stove to stare at it. He smiled when he saw it. He swore that Blaine's eyes were shining like he saw God, not like he'd seen a stupid organic food bar thing. "This is a new line, Sebastian. I think Jean said that they were going to make ones with cocoa nibs, different kinds of honey and goji berries. This one has avocado honey and buckwheat honey."

Sebastian didn't know what any of those meant. "Avocado is like a plant, right?"

Blaine laughed and shook his head. "Best thing about it – they replaced that ugly picture of the rabbit into something that actually looks good."

Sebastian practically froze in place. "No fucking way," he grabbed the bar from Blaine's hand just to stare at where his cartoon used to be. It didn't exist anymore. In its place was a perfect, adorable, most amazing picture of a rabbit he'd ever seen.

"Sebastian?" Blaine asked, voice soft.

"I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM!" Sebastian said, throwing his arms out in rage. His eyes were filling with tears that he knew he could not show Blaine. This was his turn to bolt upstairs, not looking at everyone else around him.

Scotty followed him as he always did when Sebastian seemed upset. When Sebastian had made it towards his room, he slammed the door. He threw himself on his bed, and pitifully cried and cried until he couldn't cry anymore. An hour later, he found himself stroking Scotty and burying his head into the dog's fur.

Somehow, along the lines, he had lulled himself to sleep.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	3. Chapter 3

3

* * *

When he woke up, he realised that the new day had dawned. He also realised that he hadn't eaten or drunken anything since yesterday. Somehow, the realisation had given him a sense of satisfaction.

He wouldn't weigh himself. He could already tell that the minute he drank or ate something, he'd probably 'put on' weight. He was shaky and tired. He honestly just wanted to go back to sleep even after the twelve hours of sleep he'd put in last night.

He had gotten off the bed and that was when he realised how bloody starving he was. The thought of yesterday's rabbit incident made him feel sick, but not sick enough that the hunger disappeared. He needed tea first. Tea and then he'd think of what to eat next.

He could drink tea black. He still needed like a tablespoon of sugar in there, but that couldn't be that many calories. Lies. Forty-five. Whatever. He didn't care for calories in his tea. He decided to take a shower first. He hadn't done his hair in days. He focused on that for the next hour – just flat-ironing his hair. He should do it more often. He used to do it every day back in high school.

He needed a haircut.

"Sebastian!" that voice – that chirpy, happy voice that he knew so well – that was not Blaine. That was pure and utter Goldie Locks. Chandler Kiehl. His cousin, Chandler Kiehl. "Blaine told me you were upset, but I just want you to know I'm here!"

Sebastian thought of how Chandler looked like – broad shoulders, spindly legs, and a little fat on his upper body – a good amount of it. He fucking hated Chandler right now for not gaining weight.

Apparently, Chandler couldn't take it anymore because he stepped in the boy's room.

"Scotty's still here?" Chandler said, looking at the dog that was currently being as lazy as fuck. He looked at Sebastian, whom was standing there with a towel wrapped around his hips.

He hated himself for always flat-ironing his hair before he wore any clothes (okay, it made sense since his heart would be dripping wet if he'd just showered and wearing clothes would just make it wet).

Chandler looked ecstatic. How strange (not). "Did you gain weight?"

"I've gained weight five fucking months ago," Sebastian responded. "I haven't been wearing the same pants as high school for a pretty long while, Chan. Did you just notice this?"

Chandler nodded his head. The blonde wasn't a liar, so Sebastian really couldn't say anything to it. "I always thought you were the same size as high school. Then again, you've been wearing really baggy clothing," he paused for some time before adding on. "Honestly, if I didn't see you practically naked, I wouldn't have noticed that you gained weight at all."

"Thanks for the heads-up, Blondie," Sebastian murmured, grabbing his sweatshirt and putting it over his head. "If you want to, you can shut your eyes or turn around. You know I don't give a fuck if I change in front of you."

At that statement, Chandler pulled his beanie down to cover his eyes. That annoying smile was still on display though.

Sebastian snorted. He fished for boxers and any pants at all that weren't too tight. After wearing them, he wandered towards the blonde and threw his beanie off his head. "Did you see the temperature outside?"

Chandler had sighed deeply. "Okay," he flushed. "I'm just self-conscious of my hair today. I got it cut yesterday. I always like my hair short but everyone keeps on making fun of it."

"Your hair's as sexy as the rest of you," Sebastian winked.

"Bassie! We're related!" Chandler tried to remember him. He always somehow forgot Sebastian didn't have a filter – related, not related, girl, boy, short, tall, fat, thin – whatever it was, he would hit on it. If it had a reproductive organ, it was enough for the brunette.

Sebastian laughed. "Do I care?" he asked, winking towards Chandler again.

"I bought my waffle maker," Chandler offered a huge smile.

Sebastian was filled with dread, but he didn't show it. "You mean the one that makes heart-shaped shit?"

Chandler nodded his head. "I'm going to make you some waffles with chocolate chips, some pecans, maple syrup and they're going to be chocolate ones. Watch out, Bassie. You wouldn't want another square of chocolate ever again in your life when I'm done with you."

"You really are evil, you know that, Chan?" Sebastian asked. He couldn't say no to Chandler's offering. That would be too suspicious and the brunette knew so.

Sebastian wanted to throw it all away and just eat with Chandler and gain five or something or rather more pounds, but it felt like he couldn't for some weird reason. As if he wasn't supposed to. He didn't like the feeling. He was guilty for even bloody thinking about eating.

Maybe it was just after shock from yesterday. He had to go through a lot of fucking shit yesterday.

He would eat the least possible for breakfast, and what? Lunch and dinner? He'd eat everything probably. All things restored back to normal. There. That was it.

He just needed to get through breakfast. He didn't want any bloody breakfast, and his head still hurt from all the weeping he had to do last night.

He found Chandler had bought that ugly big blue bag of his that Sebastian loathed. He looked through Chandler's things simply because he could (he wanted to see if there was anything interested – like a condom). Chandler didn't mind Sebastian doing this actually. Sebastian paused when he found his Father's company's organic bar in Chandler's bag. He pulled the bar out just to gawk at it. "It's the old cartoon on the cover. Not the new one."

"Yeah, the new one is only for new lines," Chandler shook his head. "I like the original one – I like that drawing better. It's really adorable."

Sebastian stared at the bar for some time. "I drew that cartoon when I was a child. My Father hates me now so his new line doesn't have any of my drawings. No."

Chandler's face softened. "Oh," his voice was soft. "He doesn't hate you, Bassie."

"He fucking loathes me," Sebastian snorted lightly, before getting up. "Go make your heart-shaped waffle things. I'm going to make myself a cup of coffee to calm down."

Chandler nodded his head. "Okay," but then perked up immediately afterwards when he had gone towards the waffle maker he had. He also had a bowl out.

Sebastian didn't want to see Chandler making it, but he kept on sneaking glances to see Chandler put all the fattening ingredients together. Sebastian felt queasy. He swore he gained a few pounds just looking at the thing. He just got his cup of coffee, sat down and waited for Chandler to finish.

"Are you eating the damned batter again?" Sebastian asked, staring at Chandler's legs. He hated Chandler just for his legs. His top part was normal, but he had such thin legs and he hated it.

"Sorry," Chandler flushed before taking off his jacket. "It's really hot in here."

"No, it's not," Sebastian said and he was shocked at how he meant it. It used to be hot, but now, the brunette was cold for some reason. Fuck it. It was nothing. Sebastian's eyes were on Chandler's arms. "How the fuck can you only have fat around your stomach? That's not okay."

Chandler laughed. "Sebastian, you have clearly not looked at my thighs."

"Okay. You have a point there, Blondie." Sebastian's eyes were assessing Chandler's figure again. "You have no fat around your legs though."

"Yes, my legs are bad compared to the rest of me." Chandler said, rubbing his neck. "I feel like I have a really disproportionate body. I just wish I can take from somewhere else and spread it really nicely across my body."

"Maybe you should take that batter you made and spread it across your legs."

"Sounds like one of your…_videos_," Chandler said, meaning Sebastian's porn really. The brunette burst out into laughter. "Or a really bad waxing recipe. Okay! I think our waffles are ready. Do you want to drizzle yours with honey or maple syrup or both or—"

"I should ban you from sugar," Sebastian murmured.

"I could drizzle it with sugar on top," Chandler had disappeared towards the waffle maker. If he knew Chandler, that thing would be a golden crisp and absolutely delicious. Chandler knew how to make things – he just hoped that Chandler didn't have a friend with type two diabetes or anything.

Chandler returned, balancing two plates in his hands. He offered it to Sebastian – of course, why not give the fatass the bigger hearts? (That actually sounded cute. Gag.) He stared at the plate for the longest of time, poking at it. Chandler was watching intently, waiting for Sebastian to take a bite.

"Not hungry," Sebastian pushed the plate away. That was convincing enough. Chandler looked like his heart had been crushed. "You're a confusing character, Chan. You survive bullying all through high school but if someone can't eat or won't eat what you make them then you might just die of a broken heart."

Chandler nodded his head. "I thought it would make you feel better. Blaine had to go away apparently and he didn't like the thought of you being alone so he called me. He was complaining about the messes you're making but the place is pretty spotless."

"In bed," Sebastian smirked.

Chandler's face flushed.

"Come on, Chan," Sebastian shrugged. "I'm lonely, and my fiancé is in Greece for a few months—do you honestly think that I'm going to withstand that long without doing anything to myself to keep me happy?"

"Sebastian, you are a character," Chandler mumbled, rubbing his neck. "I'm not cleaning that up. I'm not touching the leftovers of your sperm."

"Fine, I'll do it," Sebastian mumbled. "Does it make you feel any better about rejecting your sugar?"

Chandler shook his head. Nothing would make Chandler feel better. "You usually eat even when you're not hungry. Is something really wrong?"

"Been a rough day yesterday," Sebastian shrugged, stirring in his coffee. He needed to go reheat it. It was too damn cold.

Chandler stared at Sebastian for a while. "Why?"

"Did you happen to see my Father?" Sebastian put his coffee in the microwave, reheating it for about a minute before looking back at Chandler.

The blonde nodded his head. He looked slightly petrified. "Yeah," his voice was low. "He looked horrible, Sebastian. I'm sorry. He was just so thin and he looked so vulnerable and—"

Sebastian cut Chandler off. "I don't give a fuck."

"Oh," the blonde looked confused for a moment.

"He ignored all of my calls and texts practically after he got out of chemo for the first time, and then he says he wants to talk to me to tell me that if I pose for that _Blush_ magazine thing then he'll disown me," Sebastian said, feeling tears come back full force. Fuck it. He didn't care about crying in front of Chandler. The blonde had seen him cry a dozen times. "I told Kurt I couldn't do it. He asked me why and I spat out some shit about not wanting to look like him and look like a lady. Won't be surprised if I ruined the whole wedding shit right now. Fuck me. Fuck all of this."

Chandler had moved towards the brunette to wrap his arms around the taller male. Sebastian had never been self-conscious of the size difference as he was then. "Kurt's stuck with you through three years, Bassie. He's not going to cancel you guys' wedding just because of one stupid outburst. I should know that."

Sebastian nodded his head. The tears hadn't fallen, and he didn't feel like crying anymore. Good. What a humiliating morning. He grabbed his coffee and both went to the table again. Sebastian watched Chandler sprinkle a bit more sugar on top before saying, "I never thought you had issues with your Dad. I thought he really loved you."

"Before I came out," Sebastian explained, and Chandler looked shocked at that piece of knowledge. "Come on, Chan. You know how homophobic my Father can get. Love does not triumph over all."

Chandler nodded his head. "That's horrible," he said. "Does Kurt know—"

"No," Sebastian shook his head. "And he's not gonna know. Besides, the old man is dying of cancer. The last thing I want to start is talking shit about him. Adrien is pissed at me for fighting with him. I bet when Thomas, Christophe and Francois get wind of that, they're going to fucking murder me. He's supposedly the more sensible one."

Chandler pursed his lips. He was silent. Sebastian was just glad that breakfast wasn't mentioned again. After Chandler was done and wiped off the plates, Sebastian got a text from Adrien asking him to pick up some stupid dry cleaning that the maid wouldn't do.

Sebastian sighed. Poor Annie was damned overworked. He was sad to know that he couldn't really do anything to help the old woman that was in Adrien's house. He'd offer Claire up for service but Adrien was just damned lazy. He got Annie to do every fucking thing in that house.

Sebastian had walked quite a bit to get to Adrien's laundry mat and he had picked up the man's laundry without much question. Calories burned were calories burned.

Sebastian always thought his house was pretty big, but whenever he went to Adrien's, he thought that the male had to pay in gold to get it. It was just about as massive as the house that his Mother had in Paris. It was amazing. There were rooms for every stupid thing that Adrien liked to do.

He had found himself in Adrien's room. He placed the man's laundry wherever he thought was fine and wouldn't ruin the job that was done on it.

Just as Sebastian was about to leave, Adrien had walked into the same room.

"How did you get in?" Adrien asked, suddenly defensive.

"…you're horrible at hiding keys?" Sebastian reminded him, raising an eyebrow. "I got your dry cleaning. You should tip me you know. I had to walk—"

"You bought that mutt into my house?" Adrien snapped, staring at Scotty as if he would disintegrate into ashes. "Sebastian, that thing is vile."

"It showers more than your prostitutes do," Sebastian reminded him, only for Adrien to glare at him. "Is that all? Can I go now?"

Just as Sebastian was going to spin from the doorway, Adrien grabbed the taller brunette's arm and pulled him backwards.

"Not so fast," Adrien began, shaking his head. "I want to have a chat with you about Dad."

Sebastian didn't like the sound of that. "Fine," he finally gave in.

Adrien motioned for Sebastian to follow him towards the kitchen. No. No. Adrien was a chef and the place smelled like paradise – this time, it smelled like spaghetti. He swore he could smell Parmesan in the air too, and he was starving. It also made him want to hurt Adrien for keeping garlic bread out in the centre of the table.

Why?

Sebastian smiled at his brother. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Your attitude towards Father." Adrien muttered. "It's disrespectful, it's rude and it's always been cruel on a rather regular basis, but the man is fighting cancer, Sebastian, and I was discussing it with all our other brothers and they also agreed with me that it would be just fine if you don't see him again unless you're taking his company. He's been nagging you for quite a while about it you know."

"He put you up to this," Sebastian deciphered quickly. "Fuck it, Adrien. I'll ruin his company."

"I know you will, but it's what he wants so you'll try your best, right?" Adrien asked, his voice forceful as if he was demanding from Sebastian to do his absolute best.

"No!" Sebastian snapped, voice dark. "I don't want to try my best. I hate that man. I hate everything he fucking stands for. I hate that he ripped out my drawing on his new line because that fucking ripped my heart out of my chest and…"

Just saying it made it more real. His chest was hurting him right now. "Fine." He finally decided. "I'll take over his company."

"I know you'll see it our way," Adrien smiled as warmly as possible. "Do you want me to cook you something?"

Somehow, that question was more horrible than the entire conversation they were having. Sebastian shook his head. "No, not really," he murmured.

"Come on. I cook very well and you must be hungry." Now, Adrien was back to normal Adrien-ness, the one that just wanted to stuff everyone around him and let them have a good meal. Adrien used to think that there was nothing more remedying than a good meal and a slice of cake for dessert. "Aren't you?"

"No," Sebastian shook his head. "Thank you. I'll see you around."

Adrien hugged Sebastian just before he left. Yet again, he felt quite self-conscious of the added weight from his used to be frame in high school. He had gotten Scotty to follow him back home.

Chandler was sitting there waiting for Sebastian. Oh no. He forgot that he had a wedding that he and Kurt were planning. How could he forget?

Chandler certainly didn't. The place was a mass of wedding catalogues and he was talking over the phone with Kurt, sounding like a fairy that was on speed. He was so damn happy Sebastian nearly thought that Chandler and Kurt's wedding instead of Kurt's and his own.

He'd skipped breakfast and lunch, so dinner was okay. He'd tell himself he'd eat half of it but God knew he'd probably demolish it from lack of food. He was bloody starving. Chandler was starting to look like a slice of pizza by this point.

Chandler always made light dinners (however, his lunches were massive) so tonight, it was just soup and some bread. Sebastian could deal with it. Okay. There was definitely room for improvement. The soup was cream of mushroom and there were noodles in it, and the bread was glazed with olive oil.

"You look so pale," Chandler finally said. "Are you sick, Bassie?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Maybe," he said.

Chandler looked like he was freaking himself out. Sebastian didn't know how so he didn't bother to ask. He finished off the soup and the bread, and honestly wanted so much more. He wanted a pizza, and some pasta and a huge slice of pie straight afterwards. He also wanted a milkshake, but he also thought of how he spent the entire day starving and he was about to ruin that if he ate anything else anyway.

An hour later, he was tired enough to go to bed. Scotty didn't join him like he always did. Chandler was playing with his dog no doubt about it. He just curled up into his bed.

When he woke up randomly in the middle of night from some hunger pangs, he turned around and saw Chandler was on the other side of the bed with his head pressed up against Scotty's fur. Of course, Chandler didn't know what a guest room was.

Sebastian would never tell the blonde but he fell asleep more easily now that he was in the room.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	4. Chapter 4

4

* * *

Sebastian Smythe had woken up with a fresh cup of coffee laid out before him on the table right beside him with a nicely written note by Chandler that told him that breakfast was waiting for him in the fridge and that he had a few things to take care of.

Sebastian had calmed down severely. He honestly didn't know how he was going to do anything with Chandler around all the time. He decided not to weigh himself that morning.

This was going to be a long day with Kurt not around.

* * *

It had been two weeks and Chandler wasn't returning any of Sebastian's messages. This meant one thing in Sebastian's mind: shit went down.

That was when he had gone to Chandler's house. Charlotte was standing by the door, looking rather happy and bubbly. Apparently, she did not know about her missing son or Chandler was hiding out in the household.

"Hello, Sebastian," she stated, nodding her head towards him. "Are you okay? You don't look well. Actually, love, you look a bit sick."

"I'm fine," Sebastian called out, not really understanding why people thought he looked sick. "How are you, Lottie?"

He'd forgotten the 'aunt' just like he always had in the past fourteen or so years. The woman had nodded her head. "I'm just fine, sweetheart," she then paused before asking, "Are you here to see Chandler? He's upstairs, cooking up one of his schemes."

"Schemes?" now, this Sebastian had to see. He went upstairs, knocking on the door and Chandler mentioned something about 'being down there for lunch in a second, Mom!' before the brunette had opened the doorway to see the blonde caught in his sea of posters and papers.

"Sebastian!" Chandler flushed when he noticed the brunette was standing by the doorway. "Hi."

"Hi to you too," Sebastian had sat down on one of the chairs, staring at Chandler for the longest of time. "What's up, babe? Why haven't you been answering any of my calls?"

"My phone broke again," the blonde responded, flushing deeply. Of course. He should've thought so. Never give Chandler an iPhone anything – he will break it due to the fact that he was never quite the dancer.

"Of course," Sebastian rolled his eyes before he asked. "Chan, what's this? Your Mother called it one of your schemes."

"Your birthday of course!" Chandler exclaimed. "It's why I had to leave the house. I couldn't risk you overseeing the plans! Now, my surprise birthday party gathering thing is ruined. I had a hard time because I couldn't get Kurt to fly over and see you and it'll be romantic and oh my God, I'd have it secretly taped…"

"That's creepy, Chan," Sebastian shook his head. "It's my birthday soon?"

"Yes! Remember? It's September, and what comes after that? November! Specifically for you, Bassie, November second," Chandler tried to remind him.

"What does that make me? A Libra?" Sebastian asked.

Chandler nearly gasped at that. "Bassie, it makes you a Scorpio – like the Scorpion. You are definitely a Scorpio – Kurt thought your birthday was so fitting to your sign. When's Kurt's birthday?"

"May twenty-one or something," Sebastian answered.

"Oh!" Chandler exclaimed, eyes glittering. "He's Gemini – like the twins. When's _my_ birthday?"

"September sixteen," Sebastian answered without much hesitation. "Shit. I forgot to go to your birthday this year, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but that's okay considering I wasn't even in the country to bug you about it and you just figured out that your Dad had cancer. It's not like you've forgotten it every year," Chandler shook his head, before smiling warmly. "It makes me a Virgo."

Sebastian laughed. "Like the virgin?"

"Shut up," Chandler's cheeks coloured in. He then looked down at his plans before looking up at Sebastian. "Something's upsetting you."

He hated how Chandler knew that without having to say a word to Sebastian. Not really. "Yeah," he sat down beside Chandler, sitting down on some pieces of paper. Oh well. He'd give a fuck later on when he'd have to apologise for it. "You should stop planning Chan because I have to go to my parents' in about a day or two and that's in France."

"Oh," Chandler sounded a little sad but then added on, "why are you sad about that? I thought you loved France."

"I _love_ France," Sebastian said before adding, "I hate my family."

"Oh," Chandler repeated. His voice was a tad weaker than usual. "Is your Father coming with?"

"Yeah, it's been stressing my brothers out from what I know. It's why I was okay with Kurt going to Greece, because I was going to go to France with my family for a while, but I'll be calling Chan. I promise you."

"You better," Chandler whined. "Sebastian, I don't know why but I have a really bad feeling about you going to France now. I don't know why – I just feel like something's going to happen to you."

"I'll be fine," Sebastian softly said.

Chandler studied Sebastian for a long time. "You look so sick, Sebastian."

"Your Mother said the same thing," Sebastian was beginning to sense a pattern here. He shook his head. "I'm fine, Chandler."

"You look like your Father on that hospital bed," Chandler finally said, voice soft.

"Cancer isn't contagious, Chan," Sebastian let out a weak laugh.

Chandler had grabbed the mirror that he had on his bed and showed Sebastian what he meant. Sebastian didn't see anything wrong with his appearance (his face was fatter – that was it). "Don't you see how pale you are? You look so sick, like you hadn't slept or eaten in days."

That was because he hadn't eaten properly in days and as a result, he hadn't slept properly in days. Okay. That made sense now.

Sebastian shook his head. "Don't be silly, Chan. You know you're melodramatic."

"Yeah, you're right," the blonde's voice was soft, before he offered him a sweet smile.

They didn't really say anything after that. Sebastian watched Chandler tuck away his posters and plans. Sebastian suggested burning them. Chandler gave him a glare.

They went downtown for some tea. Chandler said that eating may help Sebastian look better, and the brunette said that he had a huge dinner to go to that night (Adrien's house) and he didn't want to eat before then.

"I know this sounds really weird," the blonde began, shaking his head. "But like…I haven't seen you eat in a while and now, I'm beginning to worry that you're not eating at all."

That was exactly what was happening, but Sebastian wouldn't let Chandler know that – not over his life. Sebastian honestly didn't even know why he did it. He hated starving. He hated waiting for his next meal, and he couldn't stop thinking of food all the bloody time but what could he do? He didn't feel like he could eat. There was something sickening about the thought.

It was like that beef wrap that he was fantasising about eating would add inches around his stomach and inject his fat cells with more and more fat. It was like that strawberry that he was fantasising about was going to have sugar melt all over his being and turn into crippling fat the second that it touched his lips.

There was the panic that Sebastian used to get when he saw his Father come into the house late at night, wondering if he was drunk or not. It was the panic he felt like when he held Christophe's baby and scared he was going to drop something so fragile. It was the panic he felt like when he heard that the last meal his Mother had was three days ago.

It was that kind of panic that was settling in his bones whenever he thought of eating, but at the same time, he needed the flavour – he needed something to look forward to at night. He needed to know that if he just didn't eat for another hour, he could have a delicious, crispy apple salad or anything he wanted. It was his choice, wasn't it?

But it was never his bloody choice. Not ever.

He would never willingly sit there and pick a salad over pasta, or skip dessert. He would never sit there and not order alcohol because he was watching his weight, yet this was what he did – day in and day out. Getting out of it only meant guilt and Sebastian never quite coped well with fucking emotion now, did he?

It must be an emotional issue or something.

He had gone off to Adrien's, and the asshole made the biggest plate of pasta that Sebastian had ever seemed and it smelled good. He had to have a few glasses of water before he ate just because he knew if he didn't – he'd probably eat it all. No food all day or not, he just shouldn't be able to finish that much in one sitting.

He ate quite a little amount of it.

"Is it not nice?" Adrien asked, staring at the pasta that Sebastian knew was probably made with butter, cheese and olive oil in the oven for a long time. Pretty roasted. Delicious too, but he was too fat too enjoy shit like this.

Sebastian shook his head. "I just don't want anything in particular."

"That's a lie," Adrien was starting to sound violent. "You eat every bloody thing that's in front of you. It must not be edible if you're not eating it."

Sebastian honestly felt insulted at that comment. "Fuck off, Adrien. I am not a bottomless pit."

"You better be eating everything I make when we go to France," Adrien threatened, and Sebastian glared back at him. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Making me feel like my cooking isn't good enough?"

"Are you fucking insane?" Sebastian spat out. He honestly didn't know how Adrien worked, but that sounded just about the stupidest thing he bloody heard in his life. "You give me a portion size the size of my fucking ass and expect me to finish it. What the hell is up with that?"

"You used to ask for seconds," Adrien reminded him.

Sebastian's cheeks coloured in at the memory. "Maybe I decided that I'm eating too much all of the time."

"Can't say I don't agree with that," Adrien scoffed, and Sebastian felt his stomach do a flip. "You have gained a bit of pudge around your—"

"Shut up," Sebastian spat out. Chandler was a liar when he told him his weight gain was not noticeable. Kurt wanted him to lose thirty pounds from before, and that stupid Paisley bloke thought that he had forty excess pounds to lose. This was so stupidly bad.

He hadn't weighed himself in days and now, he was so damn scared of the number. He'll weigh himself on the morning just before he'd leave for Paris. He just had to.

So that was what he did. He had come home, packed everything he had. Chandler came by a few hours later, with a few things he wanted Sebastian to wear whilst in Paris, along with a huge camera and told him to take loads of pictures with this huge gleaming smile.

There was talk about Skype and Facebook, and keeping in touch for the next bit of time. Sebastian had zoned out through all of it. He was tired, and he hated fighting with his brothers.

On the day he had his flight, he had stepped on his scale and saw that he was at a less grotesque 174.4. Somehow, he'd lost 7.6 pounds from when he last weighed himself a few weeks ago. He wasn't complaining really. He honestly didn't see it in the mirror though.

Maybe he was just tired.

After the weigh-in, he drank some coffee, and off to Chandler he went to the airport. Chandler was chattering on about the weather (literally) and Sebastian had fallen asleep during the car ride.

Before Sebastian had left, Chandler had given him a warm hug.

The blonde had offered him a smile that Sebastian didn't return. "Bassie, are you sure you're okay?" the blonde asked.

"Yeah," he responded, voice a little dull. "Just tired."

"Your sleeping—"

"I know, I know," Sebastian laughed lightly. He pressed a kiss to Chandler's forehead. "Take care of Scotty for me, okay?"

Chandler nodded his head. "I'll miss you!" he called out soon after, which offered Sebastian a smile.

He just scrambled towards the airplane. He hated the atmosphere of the planes. He hated flights – no matter how short or long. He just curled up in his seat, and fell asleep for most of the time. He hadn't been able to get himself to sleep for so long.

It was only a few moments when he was interrupted by Christophe, whom was discussing shit about his baby boy. Sebastian had drifted off to sleep by then completely.

When he woke up, they went and got their luggage. The ride back 'home' had been pretty long. Sebastian forgot when he stopped thinking of that huge mansion as home. It just wasn't anymore. His heart started racing in his chest when he saw that his Nona was standing outside the doorway there to greet him. They'd always called her Nona since his Father was originally Italian and Sebastian had been raised up calling the woman Nona.

He practically raced towards her and gave her a huge hug and she hugged him back as tightly as ever. For an old grandmother, that woman practically broke his bones in that embrace.

"Is Renee coming over?" Nona spat out with a venomous tone to her voice. "I don't want her to bring Jeremy over. Where's Jean?"

"I'm right here, Mother," Jean had called out just as he walked towards her. Sebastian stared at the man – still thin, still weak-looking and it made Sebastian want to starve himself relentlessly or puke out whatever was in him that was considered substance. The puking part got to him. That didn't make any sense. Oh well. He'd _never_ voluntarily puke out anything he ate so it wasn't important.

"Oh, Jean," Nona moved towards him, abandoning Sebastian completely. "Why are you so thin?"

Sebastian wanted to hear that – directed to him about his mediocre weight loss. It was still weight gain as far as he was concerned. He just lost some of the weight he gained back.

He walked in, expecting to see his Mother so he'd whine towards her but of course, she didn't exist anymore. Somehow, the thought of that made him want to go back to Ohio. He can't stay here – his Mother bloody died here. His Mother's soul was here. She was somehow here everywhere he fucking turned. Why the hell didn't he think of this before he booked the tickets for two fucking months here?

Two fucking months. He could barely stand two fucking minutes here.

He hated this. He took his trolley upstairs, and went up to the room they'd always given him. No. Occupied by Christophe and his million children.

"You can take Mother's room." Christophe muttered.

"I don't fucking want my dead Mother's room!" Sebastian snapped, not meaning to.

Christophe snorted. "Come on, Sebastian. I can't take the boys there. They'd break everything. Adrien's not gotten over her death, and you're stronger than Addy. Tommy's not going to take that room. It's too pink or something. He swears he gets nightmares because of that colour."

"Thanks," Sebastian spat out. "Because I've completely gotten over her death."

"Just go into the room, Sebastian," this time, Christophe's words were a demand.

He had finally given up in just about a few seconds and stormed off to his Mother's room. Nathalie's room was rather pastel-coloured. It smelled like her. It _was_ her.

This was her in a room. He knew it too.

He took his phone and was contemplating phoning Kurt. He hadn't talked to the brunette in weeks and he was missing him quite a bit. He had placed his phone on his bed. He'd call Kurt straight after he had to eat. His Nona was impatient and was calling him downstairs.

Behold – food was involved. "You had a long flight and you all need to eat."

No, he did not. He had enough fat on him to survive the holocaust as far as he was concerned. He sat down on the chair and stared at the array of options he had in front of him. He wanted to eat just about everything. He also wanted to cry because there was all this food in front of him.

He watched his Father pick up his napkin, smoothing it over the plate he had in front of him. The man had picked himself a good amount of steak salad as a side, some pasta and then a piece of bread. Adrien seemed to be whining about how he should've been making everything.

Sebastian found himself picking up a sandwich from the centre of the table. It looked small. He pulled off the crusts. And a bit more bread. He took a bite, threw off a bit more bread. Took a bite, threw off a bit more bread—he looked up just to see if anyone was staring at him and realised nobody gave a damn. After his sandwich ploy, he picked up a hardboiled egg, noshed on that for a bit. He hated their hour long dinners.

When he was done with the egg, he just stared at them waiting for them to finish off. Usually, his Nona would tell him to eat three times more than he originally planned but the woman was damned busy telling Jean to eat everything on the table which was more than fine by Sebastian's standards.

Just as he was done with whatever it was he had, Jean had said something that Sebastian didn't want to hear.

"Sebastian, have you not sent out wedding invitations yet?"

Sebastian felt sick. He didn't want his family at the wedding—something that Kurt had agreed on a long time ago considering that Sebastian's family had a history of homophobia that Sebastian never wanted to discuss.

"N-n-no," Sebastian stuttered. He felt like a fucking idiot for stuttering.

"Do it soon then." Jean said, staring at him for a long time. "It's almost as if you didn't want your dearest Nona seeing you get married to a lovely _boy_," he said the last bit as if it was poison.

No. No. No. No. _NO_! Sebastian's heart was racing at this point. He'd never come out to his extended family. He'd come out to his Father, and his Mother, but that was about it. Nathalie was understood but Jean did not. He pursed his lips together as tightly as possible. He turned to look at his Nona, whom apparently had harboured a sudden hate for him.

His aunts didn't look too interested in the idea, and certainly not his uncles. Sebastian could count very few that were actually into the idea. His brothers weren't comfortable with that idea at all.

Sebastian felt queasy all of a sudden.

"Problem, Sebastian?" Jean was actually getting on Sebastian's nerves. "Do you want to mention to everyone else how you wanted to pose in androgynous clothing as well? Of course, I managed to talk you out of it. You've never made much sense."

"You fucking threatened me, you little shit!" Sebastian spat out.

All they could see was the hormonal gay son yelling at his cancer-ridden Father. That was all they could see. He would never forget that look of actual fear in his Nona's eyes, or how Adrien looked like he was nearly going to puke.

"Go upstairs, Sebastian," Christophe had finally said. "Now. My boys don't near to hear any of this, okay?"

"And don't fucking come back down again," Adrien sighed deeply. "I've always known you were different, Sebastian. You're just sick different, aren't you?"

Sebastian's shoulders were shaking. "Just because we kiss different people doesn't mean that I'm a different person, I—"

"You don't understand it, do you?" Adrien spat out, standing up from his position and staring at Sebastian with hard eyes. "This was the last straw. I don't give a fuck about who you're making out with – but you do not yell at my Father like that Sebastian. You do not yell at a man that is suffering through cancer like that, alright? You don't yell at all. You go upstairs, and don't come back down. The less we see of you on this vacation and in our lives, the better. Things were just meant to be this way."

Sebastian stormed out of the room. He was unhappy. He was just about to call Kurt, but he was angry and the food was making him sick.

A few minutes later, he found himself slouched over the toilet, trying to puke. Maybe he should never say never.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	5. Chapter 5

5

* * *

Sebastian had a dream that his clothes got so tight that he couldn't breathe, had to be sent over to the hospital so that they could extract his clothes and they accidentally took off his skin along with his clothes. A dream? More like the biggest fucking nightmare ever.

Now, it was three am and he can't sleep. The time difference from Ohio to France meant that Chandler should be up (he honestly didn't know how to convert timings – he just knew that theirs were drastically different). He got on Facebook to busy himself and saw that Chandler was online. He didn't want to type though. He wanted to talk. He wanted to hear Chandler's voice.

At least he knew the blonde was awake before he made the call. He shut off his laptop and put it aside. The blonde seemed to answer in seconds.

"Bassie? Isn't it late over there?"

"Three am," Sebastian answered.

"Bassie, your sleeping—"

"Fuck off. I woke up from a nightmare. I fell asleep at like one – which is early for me, okay?" Sebastian cut Chandler off. The blonde wasn't saying anything on the other end. He felt like he'd called to Chandler to bitch about his stupid life.

"Oh, okay," Chandler's voice was soft. "How's Paris?"

"I want to go home," Sebastian finally said. It was real funny how 'home' changed meaning since he'd been to Ohio, away from his suffocating family. "Chan, I can't stand this place anymore. I want to leave. I can't take it. I can't fucking take it."

Chandler's heart was racing. "Did your family do—"

"My Father just fucking outed me in front of me whole family. Chan, I…nobody knows." Sebastian didn't know how else to explain it. "Nobody fucking knows and he just told them that I'm getting married and asked for when I'm sending out wedding invitations."

"I thought he knew," Chandler's voice was soft. "Like I thought your side of the family was like my side of the family…"

"No," Sebastian paused, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach. "No, Chan."

"Oh," Sebastian could hear Chandler shifting uncomfortable form wherever he was sitting. "Does Kurt know?"

"No," Sebastian responded, looking at the wall for a few moments. "I don't know how to tell him about it either. I don't want to tell him just yet, Chan. I don't like it when Hummel finds me into a vulnerable position and I hate that I sound like I'm whining so fucking much but it's like…these past few weeks have been the definition of shit."

"Okay," Chandler's voice was soft. He honestly didn't know what to say and Sebastian could tell that much. "Bassie, I've never heard you sound like this before. It's actually really worrying. Last time I saw you, you looked sick too so I'm guessing you don't look any better."

"_I'm not fucking sick_!" Sebastian exclaimed, and then realised that he wasn't alone in his house anymore. He forgot how well his family slept but he hoped he didn't stir them from their slumbers. "And I don't _look_ it."

"Bassie, really, you remind me of your Father sometimes." It was that statement that made Sebastian's skin crawl. Chandler seemed to have realised his mistake and then added on. "Oh my God, Sebastian, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that. Please, don't—"

"It's okay," Sebastian cut Chandler off, not caring anymore. He laughed as if to show Chandler it didn't affect him at all. It hurt, but it was a dull kind of hurt that he wouldn't even remember come tomorrow and that was as much as he knew. "Okay? Calm down, Chan."

"I just feel so bad," the blonde's voice was riddled with so much shame that all the hurt in Sebastian's chest had disappeared at that moment. "Are you going to change your flight?"

"I can't," Sebastian muttered, his voice a little dark. "I can't leave. It's a family thing, Chan. I can't leave, but I can't stay. I don't know."

"You said you liked Paris, right?" Chandler reminded him, and Sebastian paused simply at that thought. Yeah. He could see where this was going. "Leave the house as much as possible and only come home when you need to, okay? I'm really worried right now."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Sebastian might actually do just that. "I'll see you when I get back, okay?"

"Okay," the blonde's voice was low. "Tell me how it goes, okay? And tell Kurt. Please. Don't think you can handle everything by yourself and then when it all crashes down; you reach for Kurt to a last resort. This is bad, Bassie. I know you probably don't think it's bad but it is and you have to let him know."

"Thanks for the advice," Sebastian muttered, shutting off the phone. He'd never been one for goodbyes and Chandler knew that. The only times goodbyes were said on the phone was if Chandler had decided to end the call instead of Sebastian.

The brunette had stayed up for a while. By five am, he'd given up completely, gone downstairs, and made himself some coffee. He had decided to wear his boots and go hiking. That would sure burn some calories.

He had left the house before anyone could wake up. The weather was good – not great, not amazing, but not bad either. It was a bit cold, but normally, Sebastian wouldn't think it was cold at this weather. What was up with that?

He was just walking down the road when his phone rang and he answered it. "Hey?"

"Sebastian, it's Kurt," the boy had mumbled on the other line. "Listen…" it was his sweet talking voice. Sebastian had recognised it immediately, "I was just thinking about what happens after the wedding."

Now, this conversation Sebastian _liked_. "Oh?" Sebastian smirked. No, there was a catch.

"I was thinking that we may be young and still trying out things for the first time, but honestly, I want us to start discussing on more serious matters, such as…" Kurt had paused for the longest of time before he finally spat out whatever he was thinking about. "Sebastian, I want us to have a baby. I want us to get a surrogate. I want us to discuss these things in the future."

Sebastian was feeling sick instead. "What?" his voice was soft. "Hummel, let's just focus on the wedding."

"I'm just telling you," Kurt had said before adding on, "These are all things we'll discuss anyway. I'm not saying that we should get a baby straight after we get married, but what I am saying is that it should definitely be on your mind. I considered adoption for a while, but I'm not too fond of the idea. I'd like to see a child that has either one of our attributes."

Sebastian was feeling sicker by every syllable that left Kurt's mouth. "Oh," he said. It was all crashing down on him. He wasn't in fucking high school anymore. He can't just ignore shit like this. He always thought he could get away with those conversations. He was only twenty-one years old, and Kurt was twenty-two, but still—those things were constantly on his mind.

A child. Kurt wanted them to have a fucking baby.

"I just honestly want to have one before my next birthday," Kurt confessed before adding on. "I know it's very soon. We aren't even married yet, but knowing the fact that I've stayed with you for this long is just about commitment enough. This wedding is just ensuring what we've known all along – we are going to be together for a long time, and you've known it for a long time. Paisley just came to Greece yesterday and had suggested the idea of a child and I was actually thinking about it for the past few weeks. It's actually a good idea. I've always wanted one, and we can't really wait too long. I don't want to be in my forties by the time that my son is in high school. The earlier we could, the better. Sebastian? You better be listening, because if I have to repeat myself—"

Sebastian just rummaged through his mind for a lame ass comment. "You clean enough of my own puke, Hummel. Really want a baby?"

"I wish you had a vagina just to see you be forced to not drink alcohol for nine months," Kurt murmured.

Sebastian laughed. "Hummel, I think that's a fucking myth. My Mother drank alcohol and did drugs, and I turned out just fine."

Kurt was silent for a moment before he added on. "My point. You're in Paris, right? You did pick up our rings, didn't you?"

Sebastian froze for a few seconds. "Uh…I'll pick them up today."

"You better!" Kurt snapped. The bloke was irrational and stuffed full of Greek food – Sebastian couldn't really say anything to that. "Sebastian, honestly, if you do not get send me a picture of the rings this week…"

"I got it. You'll maim me, skin me, feed me to Scotty…" Sebastian rolled his eyes, as the list went on and on.

Kurt seemed to think he wasn't threatening enough and added on, "Sebastian, I just have to let you know that I have no problems with shooting meerkat. Furthermore, you wanted the rings to be a custom job in Paris. I wanted them to be yellow gold. Wait, wait, did you change my design? Is that why you don't want to show me?"

"Of course I changed the design! Fucking hell, Hummel – I'm not walking around with a ring that's yellow gold! Our ring is white gold, and the stones are inside, not out. I don't want to look like a fucking bitch with a huge fucking emerald on some yellow gold ring," Sebastian honestly hated Kurt's designs. He was not a chick, and he wasn't walking around with a ring that had an emerald on it. Kurt loathed diamonds, so any other stone would do.

"So, what does it look like?" Kurt shuffled.

"I'll show you," Sebastian shrugged. When he got to get those bloody bands. He replicated their design to his parents' rings. Theirs were white gold, and whilst the stones were diamonds, everything was inside of the ring. The gems were small, and they formed a pattern. His parents had something stupid like a heart and a lock. No, Sebastian was going for the birds and the bees. Shit. Now, that he was thinking about that, Kurt was going to murder him when he realised that the ring he crafted up for his dearly beloved was so plain on the outside and on the inside, had a small pattern of bees in small topaz gems.

Fuck. He should've known that he should've stuck with Hummel's gay pride ring (what he called it anyway as there was no way that he could buy that ring and wear it around to anywhere that wasn't a gay parade). Oh fuck. Those gay parades… there went the stories that he used to tell about the gay parade. The times he ended up in another country. The times he had orgies. Oh yes—

"Sebastian, what are you thinking about?"

"…gay parade orgies?" Sebastian responded. Hey. It wasn't a lie.

"SEBASTIAN!" Kurt exclaimed, and Sebastian sighed deeply before a smile spread across his face. "By the way, you get no bachelor party. No. If I know you, you'd somehow end up in Alaska, heavily drunk on vodka having have had sex with three different races, and stranded with a bear that may just about kill you. Instead, I am having the bachelor party, and you are having a bridal shower."

"What?" Sebastian hissed. "You made me the bride? Fuck, does this mean I'm wearing white?"

Kurt laughed. "Yes, yes, my love. You will be wearing white, and I will be in black considering black is slimming and I do not need any more added bulk on me from the white. Chandler and I have already decided on suits. It's mostly revenge because I knew you'd mess up the rings, and I let you pick the cake. You know I hate your cake choices, and I let you pick the hall and the country and everything else, so I thought it was fitting that I get to pick the bachelor party and who wears what. You never cared much for clothing."

"Great," Sebastian muttered. His heart fluttered in is chest. "Hey, Hummel—uh, my extended family sort of…know about the wedding, and it would be like a dildo shoved up their arses if they aren't invited…"

"…"

"Kurt?"

"Sebastian, our wedding isn't that far away for one. We booked the hall. It is fit for a reasonable amount of people. You honestly want us to move the date, change it, and have to pay more for people that I have never even met in my life?" Kurt was furious, and Sebastian could tell so. "Of all the times you decided to come out, you chose just before the wedding! I thought we agreed that we're not telling your extended family anything because your extended family could house a small country. You have four brothers and a Father – that's already five people from your family, and we haven't even started to think about the fact that you also have those sisters that live in Hampshire, and…ugh! Sebastian!"

Sebastian's stomach was hurting him at this point. He was sure it wasn't as much as from the hunger as it was from how he felt like he'd disappointed Kurt completely. He couldn't mention his Father outing him without somehow mentioning their shit relationship, which Kurt didn't know about.

Sebastian was aware Kurt was stressed out. "Hey, I'll pay for everything. Don't worry, okay? Don't worry. I know a hall and I swear to you – if we bump the date a little further, that poor wedding planner you're bickering with on the phone twenty-four seven would be fucking glad. I'll call the florists, the caterers, the whatever else you need me to call and tell them we moved the date."

Kurt scoffed. "So, you're taking responsibility?"

"Yeah," Sebastian's voice was dull.

"I'll send out the invitations," Kurt didn't say anything for a while. Sebastian knew his aunts, uncles, brothers and Father were not quite fond of gay people but he also knew that more than anything, they'd never let their reputations be ruined. That was all his Father really cared about – reputation. He outed Sebastian not because he wanted to see him suffer (part of Sebastian believed that he also wanted that), but simply because Sebastian had to invite the rest of the family to the wedding. They had to appear open-minded. If the media found out about Sebastian not letting his extended family attend his wedding or the fact that Jean wasn't too keen on Sebastian's sexuality, then it was just corporate war. It was a disadvantage. It would be shitty for CSR and corporate image. He'd know that much.

Kurt's voice was soft when he had decided to break the silence. "How did they take it?"

Sebastian could tell him everything, or he could tell him nothing and he was really leaning towards the 'nothing' bit. This would all blow up in his face but Kurt was too fucking stressed about the wedding anyway. He didn't need any more of Sebastian's problems leaking into their perfect wedding.

"Fine," he said, and then ended the call.

Sebastian was feeling a sudden anxiety burn in his being. He realised that so much could go wrong with his extended family being in the wedding. Another thing that he just realised was that he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself at his wedding.

One more thing: if he was the one wearing white, he had to lose some serious pounds before the big day. The only good thing about changing halls was that the date was further away, and he could lose more weight and Kurt wouldn't be ever indicating that he needed to lose thirty pounds of weight ever bloody again.

Speaking of weight, it was actually annoying him that he didn't know how much he weighed. Oh well. He'll just look through the house.

That was his main aim for the next few days: not finialise wedding shit, or get the rings that Kurt had asked him to. He was looking through a scale. He knew he'd probably find one in his Mother's room but it was the last place he wanted to look. He had a fear of moving things around, of looking for things in his Mother's room – almost afraid of what he was going to find.

So he looked everywhere else instead.

The house was huge, and he couldn't find a scale anywhere. However, he did find a bunch of useless shit that weren't relevant to him in any way at all.

He gave up after a five-day long search, and had decided to go get the rings. He showed Kurt a picture of them, and Kurt was angry at the design. He told Sebastian that he was not going to wear bees. Sebastian honestly thought it was going to be like every other conversation ever, but it wasn't.

"But my parents had rings like these," Sebastian had complained.

Kurt was hyperventilating from anger by this point. "Those rings that you showed me were disgusting, Sebastian. They are revolting from how plain they are," he paused for a few moments and then added on. "I don't want to wear those rings."

"Too bad you're going to have to," Sebastian muttered, feeling a bit insulted that Kurt was practically bashing his parents' rings. His Mother loved showing her ring off. It was one of the things that made her happy—and fuck, he couldn't give Kurt that either. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "I'll fix the rings, Kurt. Fine. I'll get new ones. Whatever the fuck you want. I'll wear your emerald gold whatever—"

Sebastian was cut off when Kurt had burst into tears on the other end of the line, sobbing diligently.

"…Kurt?" Sebastian was shocked to say the least. He hadn't heard Kurt cry in a shitlessly long time. "Baby?"

"I want to elope," Kurt suddenly spat out. "Now, I know why the other couples do it. It's just so stressful, and I just want it to end. If I hear the word wedding one more time, I'm going to upchuck. I don't want a ring. I don't want cake. I don't want a bachelor party. I don't want to be constantly worrying if you're having a bachelor party. I forgot you've been gaining weight for the past few days, and I've forgotten that the last time we took your measurements, you were thinner so I doubt your suit is going to fit you and now, I'm worried that it won't and it'll all be ruined. Everything's ruined. I ruined it all!"

Sebastian's heart was racing just as Kurt was speaking. He found himself unable to find words to comfort Kurt as he heard him dissolve into sob after sob.

"K, babe, please," Sebastian tried to get him to calm down, but it was useless. "We're gonna figure this out, okay? We just have to fix around a few things. I'll do most of the work. You don't have to worry your head over anything, okay? Everything's going to be okay."

Kurt's voice was soft as he said, "Okay." He paused for a few moments. "I'll let Robert email you with the details we have settled for now."

Sebastian then felt an instant panic rise up in himself. How the fuck was he going to organise a wedding? He was hoping Kurt would forget that part and just do it all himself. Instead, he found himself taking a deep breath before he said, "Alright then, honey. You feeling a bit better?"

"Yes," Kurt responded, voice still too low for Sebastian's liking. "Are you going to be able to handle this?"

"Yeah," Sebastian shrugged, pretending as if it didn't phase him at all that he had to plan an entire wedding. Maybe it'll keep his mind off food for a few days or something. He wouldn't mind a few weeks of barely eating because he was stressing out about the wedding plans.

"I love you," Kurt smiled warmly. "Robert and I will see you in France as soon as we can, okay?"

"Yeah," Sebastian's voice was curt. He didn't want to show too much emotion or else he'd show Kurt how much he didn't want to do this – that he'd rather die than do this. "How are things with the magazine and shit holding up?"

Kurt then paused for a few moments before he responded. "Very good actually. We're still going for androgynous but decided that we need a more masculine approach because I've never done clothes that were very male-posh, so we got another model to do it and oh my gosh, Sebastian, he has such a perfect body. He's so chiseled and fitted, and he has a twenty-nine inch waist. How is that even possible? I know for a woman, it is more than possible, but for a man to have that measurement, it's just—wow. Some of these boys though look so sick in my opinion. Yesterday, we had to measure a boy whom had a _twenty-seven_ inch waist."

"That's possible?" Sebastian murmured. It sounded _desirable_. He wondered if he could be any thinner.

"Yes," Kurt sounded appalled. "It's disturbing – how thin some of these boys are. I absolutely loathe it. It's one of the few times where I look at my body and appreciate it. Some boys are enviously thin, and some of them are just sick-looking and quite a bit of them don't eat. It's rather worrying."

Sebastian didn't say anything to that. He wondered how thin he had to be to have a twenty-seven inch waist on his height. The only person that could probably pull it off and look okay was probably Chandler, and Chandler could only do that because he was Blaine's height. No, this was 'you have to be pretty damn underweight for this to happen' sort of thing. At least for his height and built.

He was somewhat excited about that thought. He tried to push it away, but honestly, he couldn't. Kurt had said his goodbyes and Sebastian found himself somewhat confused, somewhat not.

The distance between Sebastian and the kitchen had never been so perfectly crafted. Sebastian didn't like to eat in front of anyone and it was hard for the kitchen to be empty when there were so many people occupying the house. He wasn't allowed to sit at lunches or dinners anymore. They just thought that he left the house to eat when he did, not for long walks and some hikes because he didn't have anything better to do with his time.

He could always get high, but then he'd get the munchies. He could always go for heroin – that would make him care less about food and life in general but if he got caught (again), he was screwed (again). He could always go for alcohol, but fuck the liquid calories on that.

He bet he could consume his daily allowance worth of calories in just a night out with his old buddies.

So, here he was. In Paris, at his 'home' when he didn't feel like he was there at all. He was just about desperate enough to buy a scale of his own when he decided to muster up the courage to look through his Mother's room.

He found a photo album. He didn't remember much of his Mother. All he knew was that people used to tell him that he looked exactly like her, that he was her in some sort of weird way. She died when Sebastian was four so he barely had memories of her at all. He couldn't remember her face or anything. That was why when he found the photo album, he was excited. He knew she was an anorectic and sometimes, didn't eat for days.

Then he looked through it and felt a sickness fill him. His Mother was fucking emaciated. According to the papers that he had found, the woman was his height and like 128 pounds. He felt disgusted. She was so thin that it was actually painful to look at her. She wasn't thin. Thin was a word to describe normal people. She was undernourished, malnourished – whatever the fuck they wanted to say it, she was just that. Bony, brittle – nothing at all. She just looked sick.

After the first three pictures, he threw the photo album back in the closet. He couldn't take it anymore. He barely remembered his Mother, and now, he had a fresh memory of her and what she looked like. She looked like him. Brown hair, pale skin, green eyes, but she was so skinny that her skin was practically grey and her hair was probably just as thin as she was. He had her face – narrow, thin and her nose. He had her everything. It was actually shocking how much he looked like her. If she had chopped her hair off into Sebastian's cut, then he swore that she'd be his twin.

Jean had never told him about Nathalie's anorexia. The brothers just knew. He just knew but it was all from the media. The family never talked about it. It was something that was in the dark. Whenever someone asked, the man's eyes darkened and he said it wasn't important. He never quite got over her death, and Sebastian wondered what in hell's name was in his Mother's mind for thinking of becoming that thin.

He also found her scale and that morning, he went down the shop for new batteries. When his new scale was charged, he stepped on it as quickly as he could and found himself smirking at the number. 165 pounds. Yes. He was back to where he was before. Only took him a month of starving himself senselessly to lose those twenty damn pounds. He was a bit more than pleased at himself. He was even a pound lower than he was at high school.

When he slipped on his older jeans, they fit perfectly, as his old sweatshirt. It was good to be back into his clothes. A sudden feeling of disgust overwhelmed him. Had he honestly let himself go to the point where he had to buy himself new clothing that was oversized?

He looked at the mirror, pulling up his shirt to inspect his frame.

…

Fifteen more pounds. Just fifteen more pounds and he'd get his stupid pizza or whatever.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	6. Chapter 6

6

* * *

Chandler called multiple times this week, and Sebastian didn't answer any one of them. Chandler called multiple of times for _the last two months or so_, and Sebastian didn't answer one of his calls. Whenever he answered Kurt's calls, he kept it to wedding preparations and shit like that.

Sebastian was tired of this. He was bloody tired of having to wake up every day and pretend that he was okay with his Father coming to the wedding or the fact that his extended family hated his guts.

September passed. October passed and his birthday (November) passed and it was shitty. It was currently December and he hated everything. The wedding was in a week. Sebastian had to call a million people. He couldn't get it out of his head that Kurt hated the ring. He couldn't get it out of his head that Paisley had said he needed to lose forty pounds. He couldn't get anything out of his head. He was just dead tired of having to balance all of this shit out.

The only good thing about the stress was that he hadn't been able to eat more than an apple or so every now and then. There were so many times where he'd spent days not eating because he was so physically sick and stressed and food would make him more physically sick and stressed. This was bloody perfect, because he could easily lose a pound a day and keep it off because he couldn't gain weight on an apple and a few carrot sticks, but then he'd eat everything in sight and gain two pounds in a day. So, really, his weight was as static as he was for the moment.

When he wasn't puking at the thought of wedding preparations, he was threatening to puke at the dinner table. They wanted him back to 'discuss things about the wedding' and shit Sebastian could and could not do. If Sebastian heard the word reputation one more time, he'd kill something. If Sebastian heard someone say that he could just call off the whole debacle of a wedding before it even started, he'd kill _someone_.

Then Kurt called. Kurt was crying. Burt was in the hospital again, and Finn was also badly injured last night. They were both possibly dying. Sebastian had to sit on the phone with Kurt being a million miles away from him, listening to him cry and he could do nothing about it at all.

The thought of eloping was becoming more and more interesting by the moment. The wedding was postponed until further notice. Kurt didn't want to get married in the beginning of the year, so they had to wait a whole year since Kurt wanted a winter-themed wedding.

When he got off the phone, he cried, because he had planned everything out and now, he had to cancel everything. He didn't get most of his money back from anything and to be honest, he didn't give a rat's ass about money. When he had to go grumble, motioning for the fact that the wedding was cancelled. Everyone in his family seemed overjoyed, which was why Sebastian was where he was now. He had broken three plates of his Nona's china, screamed at his aunt and threatened to hurt anyone that came within a thirty mile radius of him before he had found himself sitting outside all alone.

He didn't want to be in Paris anymore. He didn't want to be in Paris ever again. He didn't want to have a family. He didn't want to have an identity. He wished he could be reborn without any identity or family just so he wouldn't have to face this mindless discrimination. He was being overdramatic and he knew it, but he didn't really care at all anymore.

When Sebastian saw Jean walk towards him, his stomach sloshed. He didn't want to see him. He didn't want to see anyone at all. Jean had offered him a Rab-bit bar, one of those that had his older drawings. Now, it was just mocking him. He threw it back towards his Father's lap, and curled his head up into his hands before letting himself weep. He didn't even care anymore.

Jean had suspiciously pulled Sebastian close to him, rubbing the boy's shoulder.

"What do you want?" Sebastian said in his tearful state. He was a bloody mess and he didn't even care that everyone could see him act like a baby right about now.

Jean pulled Sebastian's chin up to stare at his face. He wiped away the tears cascading from Sebastian's eyes, but more had spilled only seconds after.

"Sebastian," Jean's voice was soft. "Please, don't cry anymore."

"What? Do you _care_?" Sebastian spat out, his lungs were on fire and his throat had hurt him. His Father had been so confusing for the past few years – their relationship was so dysfunctional that one could only wonder what kind of character Jean Smythe truly was. "You did this to me."

Jean stared at him for the longest of time before he placed a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "I love you."

"I _hate_ you," Sebastian spat out. He didn't even care about the fact that Jean was his poor cancer-ridden Father. "Your reputation is more important to you than me. Fuck off."

Jean pulled Sebastian close to him. The brunette didn't even know what was happening anymore. Jean was rubbing Sebastian's back. "I'm sorry."

"I don't care," Sebastian wanted to forgive him but he made it clear to every fucking one he knew that he was not a toy that people could just push around.

"Sebastian, I made a terrible mistake," Jean finally said. Sebastian was staring at him quizzically. Something had to have happened. Jean pursed his lips tightly, and rubbed his neck. This was a habit Sebastian had that everyone else had adapted to ever since they'd known the brunette. "I…I have to tell you something."

Sebastian nodded his head slowly, whilst pursing his lips.

"Everything seems clear now," Jean finally said, not really meeting Sebastian's eyes as if what he was saying was going to be exceptionally shameful and hard. Good. "Uh…well, let's just say that things don't have to be hard anymore."

Sebastian didn't understand what Jean meant. "What do you mean?" he hissed.

Jean looked down at his lap before looking back up at Sebastian's face. "I've never had a love interest since your Mother had died, and I found one now in the form of beautiful blue eyes and lovely blonde locks and…" he paused for a few moments. "I've never felt like this since Nathalie. I've never felt like I was able to move on until then. And…"

"And?" Sebastian knew there was something else that was up.

Jean looked up at his son with a soft expression towards his face. "He's a lovely man. I think you'll like him."

It took a few moments for him to realise that Jean was coming out to Sebastian in his own strange way. Bisexual probably. Sebastian's mind was heavy with lead, and his stomach was churning. He didn't want to go inside. He didn't know what this meant. He felt betrayal fill his soul and then he felt nothing more than disgust – mostly at his Father for thinking that he could have Sebastian again.

Sebastian didn't want to see his Father at all anymore. He stood up from his position, bolting towards anywhere else. His stomach was hurting him. He just wanted to run away from his hypocritical father and his shitty family, and the wedding preparations. He wanted to run so far away that he didn't even know where he was. Of course, he could only run for a short period of time before he collapsed from overwhelming dizziness. He crumbled to his knees and fell towards the bushes.

His Father was running after him, and crumbled up towards Sebastian, pulling the six-foot-two tall male close to him. Sebastian buried his head into his Father's shoulder, sobbing relentlessly in the man's chest.

"Sebastian, please," was all the man could say.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" the brunette repeated. He didn't know how to feel except sick. He was sick because all of that time he spent, every waking moment ever since he told his Father that he was gay, every single second of that time – he'd been blaming himself, hating himself, wanting to destroy himself and now, he was just realising that his Father was no better. His chest was hurting and his lungs were inflating with pain. He didn't know what to say after that. He was weak.

His Father pulled him up from his position. Sebastian let out a few more sobs. The man was pulling him away from where he was to take him back to their house. Sebastian didn't like staying too close to his now very thin Father. It seemed like Jean barely ate if he sported such a body. Sebastian couldn't see bones, but he knew that the man made Sebastian look fat. That was wrong. A boy should never be fatter than his Father. It sounded wrong. It was so fucking wrong.

He had been taken towards the household again. Jean had told Sebastian that he needed his rest, and they would talk about the wedding tomorrow. Sebastian usually slept with his shirt off and he wasn't about to be shy with his Father around. He threw away the thick grey hoodie, curling up in his bed. He pulled the thick duvet over his body. Jean's eyes didn't seem to leave Sebastian's frame.

"You got thin again," Jean finally announced. "I'm not fond of it. I liked you better with more meat on your skin. You looked so well when you left for France."

"Well, because of someone, I'm not allowed to have family meals," Sebastian spat out.

Jean looked away from Sebastian's face. "I didn't think they'd be so harsh on you," he explained. "They cannot hate you if I come out to them, Sebastian. I can assure you that they won't be able to hate me either, not with the cancer. Not ever. We live in a very broken family, part of it is my fault…but I really would like to have a good family now. I don't want to hold reputation too dear to me anymore. I may not exist in a few months. I don't want you to remember me like this."

Sebastian nodded his head. He didn't know how to feel about that.

Jean placed a hand on his shoulder. "You will have a grand wedding."

"Kurt's Father is in the hospital, along with his brother. They're badly injured. The wedding is the last thing on Kurt's mind right now," Sebastian snorted. He didn't know why he bothered saying that to his Father. In the back of his mind, all he could remember was the fact that this man that was standing before him was the same man that had outed him in front of his entire family.

He felt his eyes water. "Did you really have to change the cover of the bar though? The bunny? I thought you liked mine."

"I did it based on another drawing," Jean murmured, reaching into the pocket of the overcoat he seemed to always wear. He pulled out a piece of crumbled up paper, sitting down beside Sebastian. The drawing was still of a bunny. Sebastian stared at it for a moment, completely confused. The drawing was obviously the one Jean used for his new line. There was a scribble in the bottom that Sebastian knew very well – it was Sebastian's 'watermark' for whenever he drew something, his name, age and signature.

"I don't remember drawing this," Sebastian commented.

Jean gave him a long look. "Sebastian, how much of your teenage years did you spend drunk or high?"

Sebastian opened his mouth to protest but ended up shutting it instantly. "Point taken."

Jean leaned down to press his lips against Sebastian's forehead. "Goodnight," he quickly announced before he left the boy alone in his bed.

Sebastian didn't sleep properly that night. He had gone to bed at around two am and woke up at a mere seven, which didn't sound too bad considering it was a five hour sleep but he was not used to waking up before noon usually.

He yawned when he saw the clock, almost as if it was an instinct.

He didn't spend the day doing much. He tried to help his Nona around the kitchen, but the woman didn't really say anything. He made a salad with pineapple, coconut and grilled courgette. She told him that he should put some cashews in it. They had a fight about it, and Sebastian left the house before he physically hurt his grandmother.

He had made an okay salad. There didn't need to be cashews in his salad, especially not with pineapples. His Nona always had shitty taste. He whined about it to himself, and then he came back home about thirty minutes later. He had skipped lunch because he didn't want to see his Nona.

Dinner was usually the longest affair. He had to be there because his Father specifically asked that Sebastian be there. The brunette's mind was a boggle of numbers and even more numbers by that point.

His Father came out that night. They didn't really care.

It made Sebastian so furious he refused to put anything in his mouth that his family made. He'd come to the conclusion that they were only homophobic for him, and they didn't really give a fuck about the fact that he was gay or not. It actually had hurt him quite a bit.

Jean seemed to notice Sebastian's lack of food intake that night. That was the conclusion Sebastian had come to as he watched his Father glance at him every now and then, mostly to look down at Sebastian's plate which he'd loaded with whatever food looked most fattening to him.

After dinner, Jean had called out to Sebastian to come walk with him. Christophe seemed to find this confusing, as well as Thomas. Adrien just shot daggers at Sebastian's face as if to remind him to behave himself. Francois was busy talking to one of the aunts about something to do with getting this coat but not knowing if it was actually worth the cost.

Sebastian had left with Jean about five minutes later. It took him a few moments to realise that the man was taking him to the nearest Baskin Robbins. Sebastian remembered that he used to beg Jean as a child to take him there. The memory brought back a very weak smile to Sebastian's face.

Sebastian liked the spoons the most – the distinctive pink that was just Baskin Robbins in Sebastian's mind.

Just before Sebastian could lay his eyes on the selection, Jean seemed to know what he'd want. He offered Sebastian the cup with a chocolaty flavour. Sebastian analysed the size of the cup – a medium. Well, he wouldn't eat that unless he wanted medium-sized jeans. Jean had gotten himself the same.

They were back to walking again in what felt like seconds before Jean had decided to settle down on a bench. They sat side by side. Sebastian was watching his Father eat, but it felt like it wasn't enough – yet despite Jean getting him the same, all Sebastian could feel like was that Jean had gotten him too damned much.

Jean looked at Sebastian with a confused expression resting on his face. "Why are you not eating?"

Sebastian had snorted. His newest tactic was to bring up things that would make others feel bad, as if it was mostly a mood thing rather than him purposely restricting his intake. "You never seemed to notice before."

"Sebastian," Jean's voice was soft. "Do not do this to spite me."

"_Spite_ you?" Sebastian hardly did this to spite anyone. "I'm not doing this to spite anyone. I'm just not in the fucking mood for food."

Jean nodded his head, but then pursed his lips. "Your Mother," he began to say, catching Sebastian's attention, "She was very sick before. She was an anorectic. I'm not suggesting that you are, but if you're declining food, I feel like you're doing just to spite me because you look like her."

Sebastian thought that explained the pictures he found quite well. He put a spoonful of the ice-cream into his mouth. It was still cold, but maybe, that was because the place was far from humid.

"Good," Jean smiled weakly. "Sebastian, I'm not going to lie—I do sometimes confuse you for her. You act like her, you look like her – the only thing that she has over you is her gender and it is part of why I loathed the thought of you liking men so much. It's just now that you even share the same sexual preferences. I thought that things would be different if you liked a woman, but…I don't know how I felt like about you liking a man. I felt like they might take things from you, manipulate you, cheat you – I know they did her. You are the reason why I never really missed her. After she died, I just immersed myself into your needs. It's why it appears as if I never missed her, because I always had her."

Sebastian took another mouthful of the ice-cream before he looked up at his Father. "She was anorexic?" he somehow couldn't process that even after all these years. Even after the pictures.

Jean nodded his head, pursing his lips tightly. "Yes," he murmured. "She was your height. You know that. Six-foot-two and weighed in at about a hundred and twenty-eight pounds. That's shocking, Sebastian."

"How much do you weigh?" Sebastian murmured, still working his way through his ice-cream.

"Me?" Sebastian already knew Jean's height, so it would be easy to work it all out in his head. "Um, Sebastian, that's not a good idea to ask me that question."

"Tell me," Sebastian ordered.

Jean swallowed the lump that was in his throat. "I am about a hundred and thirty-one. It is still a normal weight for my height, but on the low side of normal."

"What fucking height are you? Five foot one?" Sebastian snapped. He wasn't happy with that number. Now, he felt huge. A child should never weigh more than his parent. That was just it. He picked at his ice-cream, and found Jean staring at him with a soft expression.

"I'm very sorry, Sebastian," the man tried to tell him. "I have gained a few pounds – I suppose about five – if it makes it any better."

Sebastian didn't care. In fact, it made it worse. "No, it doesn't," he spat out. He felt horrible actually.

"I want you to meet my lover soon," Jean changed the topic of conversation very quickly. "I think it'll make you feel better."

Sebastian nodded his head, his head low. Jean offered him a smile before hugging him tightly. Sebastian didn't respond to that. All he could think of was how he had to be thinner than his Father and his Mother. He was their child. He wasn't allowed to be fatter than both of them.

When he came back home, he thought to call Kurt to ask him how he'd been. Kurt had ignored his call completely, just like he had for the past several days since Sebastian found out about what happened. He thought that this was okay, but still – he was bloody sick of people pushing him away like this. It was hard enough to extend a hand or whatever.

Sebastian was done with this as far as he was concerned. He also needed to figure out ways to dodge eating with the family now that he was 'allowed' to eat with them. Fuckers didn't deserve that from him anyway.

When his phone rang, he honestly thought to ignore it – even if it was Kurt and he was in a frantic state. He didn't give a fuck. However, when he saw that it was Chandler, his heart warmed up.

He picked up the phone and answered his call. "Hey."

"Hi!" Chandler chirped but then his voice had gotten quieter. "I heard what happened to Kurt. I'm so sorry about that. I guess there's no wedding, right? It's really sad though. I don't think he's been answering anyone's calls or—"

"Fuck him," Sebastian was angry to say the least. "Not answering any of my calls and then complaining about being alone and helpless. I don't want to deal with that shit."

"Bassie," Chandler sounded shocked. "That's not true. You know that—"

"Save it, Chan," was Sebastian's only statement.

Chandler wasn't going to save anything though and Sebastian could tell. "I know you're going through a tough time with your family, Bassie, but it's not okay to be like this to Kurt too. I mean…what if your Father's in the hospital and—"

"Fuck it, Chan. I was there," Sebastian snorted. "And I didn't ignore calls. I was okay. I was patient, Chandler, but I've called him thirteen fucking times, and he's not answered any one of them. How the fuck is that supposed to make me feel? I can't leave before my flight either. It's fucking torture. The only connection I have to Kurt right now is through this stupid fucking phone, and I had to listen to him cry over it a bit ago. It's fucking torture sitting here, listening to him crying and not being able to do anything. I can't comfort him. Can't hold him. Can't fucking do anything, and now, I don't know if he's okay, if he's dead, if he's alive, if he eloped with some Russian asshole—I don't know because he won't answer his damn phone!"

"Sebastian, I'm sorry," Chandler called out. "Just please stop yelling."

Sebastian placed his hand on his face. "Fine," he responded, voice a little dull. "I won't say anything else."

"There's more?" Chandler said, almost as if the thought of that was impossible. "Tell me."

"Fuck off," Sebastian said, ending the call right then and there. He was not in a good mood and Chandler was getting the horrible end of it and he knew but he honestly couldn't help himself. He was exploding from anger and Chandler was unfortunately there.

He didn't know whether it was good that it was Chandler (the blonde always wanted to believe the best in people), or bad (Chandler didn't fucking deserve to hear any of his shit on a regular basis).

Sebastian sat down on the edge of his bed. He didn't know how to feel about that at all. He texted Chandler and told him that he was sorry.

Chandler only responded with one statement: _something's bothering you. Tell me. Call me._

Sebastian thought for a few moments before he wrote back: _Skype me tomorrow at one am my time._ Sebastian would still be up by then. He forgot what time that was with Chandler, but he recalled Paris was ahead.

Chandler didn't respond.

The next night, that was where Sebastian was. His older clothes were getting a bit loose on him by now though he hadn't lost much. According to his scale, after his binge/starve cycle that lasted quite a few weeks, fluctuating between 165-170 the entire time, he was at a new low weight. 162.4, which still wasn't low enough but it was only after four days of coming back to starving and it was a new low weight so he considered it as good.

Now, to keep it up. He can't be fat all the time. Two full on weeks of binging and starving before the last four days. Enough was enough, Smythe.

He had gotten on Skype at one am, and saw that Chandler was on. He'd probably been on for at least thirty minutes.

_Chandler: you are like eleven minutes late._

_Sebastian: aren't I always?_

Sebastian then quickly clicked on the video option. When he saw Chandler on the other side, he smiled warmly. Chandler's short blonde hair looked pretty good in the light, and his eyes were bluer for some reason.

"Won't your family wake up?" Chandler asked, voice in a whisper.

"Fuck no!" Sebastian responded, shaking his head. "My family can sleep through World War II. _I_ can sleep through World War II."

Chandler nodded his head. He obviously looked troubled. "You still look sick."

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" apparently, it looked like it took everything out of Chandler to ask that. Sebastian knew Chandler had problems asking questions like that when Sebastian had one of his anger episodes.

Sebastian stared at Chandler for a long time, as if wondering if Chandler knew about Nathalie – maybe he did. Charlotte, Chandler's Mother, definitely would, and that was enough if Chandler would ask. Somehow, he felt safe telling Chandler in that moment.

"Chan, I don't eat," Sebastian looked down at his lap, not wanting to meet the blonde's eyes for the moment.

Chandler seemed to piece together things very quickly. Sebastian could hear Chandler's breathing on the other end of the line even with the shitty connection they had. "On _purpose_?" the blonde asked. His voice was higher than normal and he sounded like a mouse.

Sebastian nodded his head, finally meeting with Chandler's state. The blonde was completely frantic.

"Why? …to lose weight?" Chandler could only seem to come up with that. Sebastian nodded his head again, and all the colour seemed to drain away from Chandler's face. "Why? You aren't fat. You never were. You always were a stick to me. I was so happy to see that you gained a little bit of weight."

"What little?" Sebastian snapped. "I gained twenty fucking pounds, Chandler. You expect me to think that I don't look like I've gained twenty fucking pounds in a few months just 'cause I've been eating myself to death on the nights that Kurt took us out to dinners? Which was most nights—yeah."

"You needed it," Chandler responded. "Sebastian, I never liked what you weighed for a reason from before. Hell! You and I share the same weights. I am at around 165 to 167 pounds by the way and I'm 5'10. And so is Kurt…well, he's an inch higher than me, but we've both shared the same weights. You did too, but you're like 3 to 4 inches taller than the both of us."

Sebastian had known for a while that Chandler was taller than his usual 5'7. Poor Blaine. He shrugged. "I don't know, Chan. If you and Kurt both weighed that much, then fuck it – you both look gorgeous, but I'm not happy with mine, okay?'

Chandler nodded his head slowly. "Just don't…don't not eat," the blonde said. "You _need_ to eat, Sebastian. You need to eat more."

"Fine," Sebastian muttered.

Chandler smiled warmly at the brunette. "Good." He looked so much happier and content with himself. "When are you coming back to Ohio?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I don't know," he honestly responded. "Kurt's going to land in Paris tomorrow. I'm going to spend about two or three days with him and then, I have to go with Adrien to take my Dad to a hospital. My Dad grew up around Germany, and he trusts those parts more than anywhere else and we have the money, so why the hell not? We're staying there for a bit."

Chandler frowned. "Sounds like Kurt and you aren't going to see each other for a while. I'm not going to see you for a while."

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah," he paused before he told Chandler the news he just contracted about his Father. "My Dad has a boyfriend."

Chandler seemed confused. "Isn't your Dad homophobic?"

"No. Apparently, he explained it all to me…he has this whole 'I look like my Mother' complex, and now, I'm even more like her because I like to suck dick," Sebastian shrugged, trying to make it seem as if it wasn't bothering him at all.

Chandler nodded his head. "When will I get to see you?"

Sebastian paused to think. "A few months from now. Probably in some holiday. If not, then you'll hopefully see Kurt and I when we re-plan the wedding at probably like December…we'd have to get new everything now. Kurt's always wanted a snow-themed wedding, but hey, at least he gets to do what he's always wanted to do with the rings I designed – burn them, and make his own."

Chandler nodded his head once more. His expression was purely stoic. "I'm going to miss you."

The smile had melted off Sebastian's face. "I'm going to miss you too, Chan. Keep me posted, okay?"

"Alright," the blonde said in a soft voice. "Call me tomorrow."

"I'm busy for the next couple of days," he reminded Chandler. "Kurt, remember?"

"Oh," Chandler nodded his head. "Call me when you have to leave for Germany then, or when you get there—I want to hear from you as soon as possible."

Sebastian nodded his head. "Fine."

"Go to bed," Chandler hissed. Sebastian laughed, nodded his head, and said his goodnights to the blonde. Sebastian then pulled his laptop away, sliding into his sheets, attempting to fall asleep but lay awake for another two hours.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


End file.
